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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25789459">Never Know How Much I Care</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/earthwindandfiber/pseuds/earthwindandfiber'>earthwindandfiber</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire &amp; Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Politics, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Boners, Dirty Talk, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Hotel Sex, I mean the man never shuts up so, I tried to measure the tension in chapter 2 but the meter broke, Jaime x Brienne Fic Exchange 2020, Minor Violence, NOTHING is resolved man it's a straight-up mess (at first), Politics, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Red Ronnet fulfills his sole purpose in life yet again, Resolved Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, featuring only the house's finest phallic hors d'oeuvres, just buy a hat and hold the fuck onto it, like a homeopathic amount of politics, sexual tension level: High, the inherent eroticism of well-crafted spreadsheets, very very light on the politics though</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:53:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,618</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25789459</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/earthwindandfiber/pseuds/earthwindandfiber</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Catelyn Stark’s Senate reelection campaign is floundering, so she enlists help from an unlikely quarter. Unfortunately, she underestimates the havoc this will wreak in the office, particularly with her assistant. Drama ensues.</p><p>Or, a modern politics AU that is much more about tension, snark, and desire than it is about actual politics.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>179</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>273</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Jaime x Brienne Fic Exchange 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/SigilBroken/gifts">SigilBroken</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This prompt fill is for SigilBroken (Hi there! Such an honor, huge fan), which was extremely intimidating but I did my best to power through. </p><p>Filled prompts: “Karma Police” by Radiohead; “My mistake”. </p><p>So just as an explainer, this first chapter is a series of scenes that are in chronological order relative to each other, but not… equally-spaced along that timeline, so to speak? I think it’s not actually confusing to read but wanted to be clear up-front lest someone get really in the weeds about how things fit together. Just let it wash over you like a soothing JB rain. The other chapters are more temporally compact.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Brienne walked into the conference room. “Some coffee, Senator?”</p><p>She held out her mug with a wry smile. “You can call me Catelyn, Brienne. You’ve earned the right.”</p><p>“No, that’s okay.” At her raised eyebrow, Brienne relented. “Fine, I’ll… Catelyn. Better?”</p><p>“Much. Now, let’s go over the agenda for today.”</p><p>Brienne took her pen out from behind her ear and started circling different things on her clipboard. “Later today you have lunch with the Secretary of Education, be sure to ask her to support your bill. At three you have a photo op with the Direwolf Rescue Society of Westeros — ” the senator sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose “ — as you promised your daughters. It’s part of a fundraising campaign.”</p><p>“Ugh. Yes, I remember. But Brienne, we need to talk about this morning’s meeting.”</p><p>“The strategy meeting? Don’t worry, invites have been sent to all the staff and I have my presentation ready. It’ll be a piece of cake.”</p><p>“I know. That’s just it, Brienne. With election season kicking into high gear, you’re not going to have enough time to serve as my personal assistant and be deputy campaign manager too. I’ve hired a consultant to pick up some of the slack.”</p><p>“Oh.” Brienne slumped against the table, feeling oddly defeated.</p><p>“We need to pick up votes in the Westerlands. The man I’ve hired should be able to help us do that, as well as get some endorsements and give us unique insight into the opposition. I do have some misgivings about hiring him, but his contract is ironclad. If he so much as puts one toe out of line, he’s out the door, and he knows it. And please, just keep in mind — we <em>really</em> need to win this election. I’ve been thinking of the last year as me finishing out Ned’s term, as he would have wanted. And that’s very important to me.”</p><p>“I know.” Catelyn’s husband, the first (and late) Senator Stark, had left big shoes to fill when he had a heart attack at the tender age of 41.</p><p>“As much as I care about that, I’m ready to make my own legacy. This campaign is going to be about a new vision, a new direction… But we need to get in first. I’m adult enough to put the needs of the country above my own feelings, and I hope you'll do the same.”</p><p>“Gods, Catelyn, who did you hire?” Brienne asked, unease mounting in her belly.</p><p>“Well…” She was cut off by the door slamming open. In sauntered a man wearing what was easily a three thousand dragon suit, carrying a briefcase in one hand and a cell phone in the other.</p><p>“No, I told you earlier.” He gave Catelyn a breezy wave with his bag and mouthed “one sec”, grimacing at his phone. He flopped down into a wheeled chair <em>— her</em> chair — and flung his bag and suit jacket onto the table. Then, as Brienne watched in mute dismay, the man stretched his legs experimentally and pushed off, careening right into her legs.</p><p>“Whoa!” He pressed his phone against his chest for a moment to muffle his voice. “Sorry dude, my bad.” Then on his call again, “Yeah, I don’t even know —”</p><p>“I’m not a <em>dude,”</em> she interrupted. There were limits, surely.</p><p>“Hmm?” He glanced quickly but then whipped his head back towards her to gawk, eyes traveling slowly up the long length of her body. “My mistake,” he murmured into the phone, still staring. She stood firm, feeling her cheeks warm but not wanting to give him the satisfaction of cowing her.</p><p>The squawking from his phone grew louder, and he blinked. “What? No, not you. I have to go.” He rose and stuck out his hand. “My sincerest apologies, madam. Jaime Lannister, at your service. And you are?”</p><p>She turned to Catelyn. <em>“Him?”</em> she demanded incredulously. <em>“He’s</em> your new hire?”</p><p>“Wow — I’m sorry, have we met? I feel like I’d remember pissing off someone of your… eminence.”</p><p>“I’m not working with a murderer.”</p><p>“Can’t you do me the courtesy of looking at me when you insult me? And for the record, I was acquitted.”</p><p>She wheeled to face him. “Your money may have bought your freedom, but it won’t get you a thing around here.”</p><p>Catelyn sighed loudly behind her.</p><p>“Your coffee girl is <em>remarkably</em> surly,” Jaime observed as he leaned insouciantly against the table, arms crossed. “What agency did you use? My brother’s name day is coming up.”</p><p>“That’s enough out of you, Mr. Lannister. You told me that if I allowed you to work here, you would be civil to all my staff.”</p><p>“Oh, I’ve got civility coming out my ass, Senator, but I can’t say the same for the help.”</p><p>“I am <em>not</em> the <em>help,” </em>she bit out.</p><p>“I’ll say,” he shot back.</p><p>“For the love of — Jaime, meet Brienne Tarth, your team leader. She will be your superior.”</p><p>“Oh, in every way, I have no doubt,” Jaime drawled as he again scrutinized her from toe to tip. Though he was tall, she still had several inches on him — a fact that he played to the hilt by exaggeratedly tilting his head back in a supposedly futile attempt to take her all in.</p><p>Brienne was alight with fury. “May I be excused, Catelyn?”</p><p>She took a moment to rub her temples before smiling wanly at Brienne. “Yes, of course. You can miss the meeting. I’ll bring Mr. Lannister up to speed so he can jump right in.”</p><p>“Sounds good to me!” He sat back down and flashed her a winning smile. “Lovely to meet you, was it… Tart?”</p><p><em>“Tarth,”</em> she seethed.</p><p><em>“Tarth,”</em> he said, rolling the word in his mouth like candy. “I could swear I’ve heard that name before.” She blushed hotly but didn’t deign to reply. “No? Fine. <em>Ms.</em> Tarth, may I please have some of that delicious coffee?”</p><p>She shoved the pot into his lap, causing him to yelp in surprise. “My pleasure.”</p><p>“So I guess sugar is out of the question?” he called out just before the door closed behind her.</p>
<hr/><p>Jaime worked fast. Within their first hour of working together he had mocked: her face when she glared <em>(“Was there a job opening because the last guy turned to stone when you looked at him?”), </em>her drab wardrobe <em>(“I didn’t know the Big and Tall store had a middle management discount”),</em> and the contraceptive patch that peeked out from under her sleeve <em>(“That’s the spirit! Hope springs eternal, I always say”). </em></p><p>Maybe he was telling the truth about his homicide not being a murder, Brienne mused; it could easily have been self-defense. Who could work with Jaime for any length of time without wanting to kill him?</p>
<hr/><p>“Why is he here?” she complained to Catelyn after his first week. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to question you, but I can’t fathom what motivates him. He seems to be annoyed by almost everything he sees.”</p><p>“When he called me for a job, he didn’t deny that there was a lot of bad blood between our families, but said that if I trusted in one thing, it should be that he wanted his father to go down even more than I wanted to win.” Brienne was taken aback. “Yes, I know he can be… difficult, but just go your own way and let him go his. You don’t have to be best friends outside of the office — in fact, it’s much better for all of us if you’re not. Focus on the work and you’ll be fine.”</p><p>Jaime wasn't easy to not talk to, though. He seemed to worm his way into her brain no matter how much she tried to ignore him. It didn’t help that he was infuriatingly good at his job, or unstinting with praise when he thought someone deserved it.</p><p>The next day, after much haranguing, Brienne reluctantly agreed to show him the side project she’d been working on. “Fine. This is the data set I’ve been using. I can give you editing privileges, but please don’t change my formatting.”</p><p>“Well, what have you been doing? Too many people just… oh, shit.” She pushed a few keys and a flurry of color-coded cells, custom formulas, and pivot tables paraded across the screen. “That’s amazing. Where did you learn that?” In return for her answer Jaime offered to grant her access to some databases that his family's camp had been using for months already. Out of a sincere desire to benefit the campaign (and absolutely nothing more), she accepted. She was far less conflicted about the matter than she had expected.</p>
<hr/><p>The new receptionist liked to linger by Jaime when she came to drop off the mail, playing with her hair and giggling at his stupid jokes about office supplies and decaf coffee. Brienne always breathed a sigh of relief when she was gone — it was very difficult to concentrate with two people carrying on right next to her desk. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a scrap of paper float down. She picked it up and saw, <em>‘Call me! XOXOXXX’</em> with a number. “Did you drop this?”</p><p>“What?” He looked up. “Oh, that. Yeah, whatever, I’ll take it.” He stuffed it in his pocket.</p><p>Typical. She braced herself for him to abandon their work; in her experience even the most noble of men wouldn’t turn down the promise of sex for middling office tasks. If anything, she was surprised he hadn’t already left. “Pia’s pretty,” she hinted.</p><p>“Pia’s <em>very</em> pretty,” Jaime agreed. She wished he would just get on with it and leave her to finish the work by herself. But he was stubbornly silent.</p><p>Finally she spoke again. “You know, if you’re more concerned with taking her up on her offer than working, you should just go.”</p><p>He sat contemplatively, lips pursed. Finally he sighed and turned back to their work. “Best not. This is pretty time-sensitive.”</p><p>She felt inexplicable guilt. What was the etiquette in thanking someone for choosing celibacy out of a sense of patriotic duty? “Oh. I’m, um. Sorry for your loss?”</p><p>He burst out laughing. “You’re — <em>what?”</em> he got out between gasps. “You’re sorry for my <em>loss?</em> Did someone die, Tarth? Is this the long-awaited explanation for that shirt?”</p><p>“Shut up.”</p><p>“Oh yeah? Make me.” He finally quieted, wiping his eyes. “Really, though — campaigns are busy. It's always like this. Now if I lost my <em>hand,</em> I’d really be up shit creek, but that remains blessedly intact.”</p><p>She didn’t quite see how the conversation had lurched from ‘lust’ to ‘maiming’, but went with it gladly. “Yes, I feel the same.”</p><p>He raised his eyebrows. “You do?”</p><p>“Of course! It would be so hard to get anything done.” He continued to look at her strangely. “Even pouring coffee is easier with two hands.”</p><p>“Ah, I see. Good point.” He bent back over his notebook, shoulders shaking.</p><p>“I really don’t see what’s so funny about that.”</p><p>“Yeah, I know,” he muttered.</p><p>It wasn’t until several days later that she thought back on their conversation and realized what she’d missed, and she was so flustered she had to go home early.</p>
<hr/><p>One night Brienne stayed late to finish something, and by the time she was done it was fully dark. She sighed, knowing it was too late to bike back.</p><p>“Need a ride?” Jaime poked his head into her office.</p><p>She jumped, startled. “I didn’t know you were still here.”</p><p>“Yeah, well. I’m not surprised that you lost track of time, you can be pretty… single-minded.” Without asking, he threw himself onto her couch. She considered him, unsure if she was being insulted. “Anyone can see how much you care about this job. It’s not about the money for you — you must have started working for Catelyn after Baratheon died, right?” She winced and nodded. “Nobody would hire you? Yeah. After Aerys, no one wanted anything to do with me either. My reputation was shot. That’s why I went to work for my father.”</p><p>“Don’t compare yourself with me,” she chided with no real heat. He rolled his eyes perfunctorily but seemed lost in thought.</p><p>“ ‘The family business’, he always called it.” He swung his gaze to her. “The Lannister political dynasty is, as I’m sure you know, very invested in family values.”</p><p>“If that’s what you want to call it, fine.”</p><p>“I mean, I knew he was ruthless. He’s proud of it! Still, the benefits of working for him outweighed the drawbacks, or so I thought. But I eventually found out just how bad he was. ‘Family values’, my ass. I quit on the spot and called his sworn enemy so she could take him down.” He stared at his hands. “It’s not enough.”</p><p>She almost wanted to comfort him. “You’ve done a lot, now.”</p><p>“I should have done more. I thought I could at least rely on my siblings, but before I left I found out that Cersei knew everything that my father had been doing. She’d known all along.” He shook his head in disbelief. “And my brother…”</p><p>She held her breath. He often spoke fondly of Tyrion; she hadn’t known that they were fighting as well. Jaime glanced at her. “Oh, no, it’s not as bad, it’s just that he knew a lot of it too, and was… trying to fix it all on his own, without telling me? He tried to explain but I was too upset to listen, I just had to get some space.”</p><p>She nodded. She understood needing to get away.</p><p>“I just can’t believe how long I did everything they asked me to. For decades. Got people elected, did all I could to help my sister, my brother.” He swallowed. “And him.”</p><p>“Is that…” Brienne’s throat was dry. “Is that why you killed the Prime Minister? For your father?”</p><p>He jerked as if she’d struck him. “What?”</p><p>“I was just… curious.” She trailed off when she saw the look on his face.</p><p>“I thought I told you. I was <em>acquitted.</em> Gods, is there anything in your brain except cobwebs and stubbornness?” He stormed out of the room, kicking the trash can as he left. She had to call a cab to get home. The next morning, Jaime didn’t show up for work.</p>
<hr/><p>“This is the third day in a row he’s called out. He’s your direct report. You need to light a fire under him and get him back in here.”</p><p>“I don’t know, Catelyn, I think he really is sick. He sounded bad on the phone.” And even if he wasn’t, Brienne knew she was the last person he wanted to see.</p><p>Catelyn chuckled. “Take it from someone who was married for twenty years, Brienne. Some men just don’t handle being sick very well. Ned would hole up in the garage apartment like a cat, but my brother used to lie on the couch and nag my sister and I to bring him things until he felt better. The gods know you don’t have much experience in this area, so you’ll have to trust me. Go get him.”</p><p>Stung, she searched for the words to defend herself, but ultimately decided it was easier to just go, which is how she soon found herself speaking to a doorman better-dressed than she, pleading her case.</p><p>“No, he’s not expecting me. Can you please call and ask anyway?” Jaime’s answering rasp through the phone was enough to grant her passage to the penthouse.</p><p>“Here… to give me… a sponge bath?” he croaked, eyes glassy with fever. He cackled at her red face, but she had the last laugh when she threw him bodily into the bathroom and told him not to come out until he looked more like a human and less like a pile of dirty laundry.</p><p>Brienne regretted her word choice when he emerged dripping wet and wearing a towel that was closer to a dishcloth. "What? It was either wear the dirty clothes, which I <em>know </em>you hate, or this. So really, I wore this for you. You should be blowing me kisses."</p><p>"Eat,” she told him grimly. He staggered to the table and sat, eating everything she put in front of him. Slowly the color came back to his face and the fact that he was almost nude became harder for her to ignore. Harder… <em>oh gods. </em>Now that she looked more closely, it was really more like a serviette.</p><p>Jaime sat back and glowered. “I know what you’re thinking.”</p><p>“I’m not thinking anything.” Very determinedly, in fact.</p><p>“You think I don’t recognize that look? I’ve seen it since I was seventeen. It all comes back to fucking Targaryen.”</p><p>If he tried to argue with her in his current state he would probably drown in his soup. “You don’t have to talk about that right now.”</p><p>“No, I want to.”</p><p>“You already did. You were acquitted, right? So you didn’t kill anyone.”</p><p>His eyes were haunted. “Yes, I did.” So he told her.</p><p>Afterwards, he watched her expectantly. “Well? Spit it out, don’t leave me hanging. Do you believe me?”</p><p>“I… I don’t know, Jaime.” It was the first time she’d addressed him by name, Brienne realized with a start.</p><p>Jaime seemed satisfied with this and was quite amenable to taking a nap — a fact she appreciated for several reasons, but none more pressing than his perilously low-slung washcloth. Of course, when he swooned as soon as he stood she was forced to rush to his side to catch him, and with his consciousness went both his ‘clothing’ and her last hope of maintaining her composure.</p><p>“You really should put some more clothes on,” she admonished a trifle shrilly as she carried him back to his bed.</p><p>He stirred. “No. I’m too hot.”</p><p>“Well, your medication should kick in soon and your fever will break.”</p><p>“Not the kind of hot I meant,” he muttered while crawling between his sheets. She pressed her lips shut lest she say something rude in retaliation. More concerning was the lingering possibility that she might tell him she agreed.</p><p>She worked from Jaime’s apartment the rest of the day, whispering her conference calls and tilting her chair back to peek into his bedroom and make sure he was still breathing. She only left when a doctor had arrived to take charge of him for the night — technically the second one that had come over, as she had to kick the first out when she discovered he had lost his medical license for torturing prisoners.</p><p><em>“Why</em> are all these people in your address book?” she demanded of a snoring and utterly unbothered Jaime, shaking her head in exasperation.</p><p>Brienne wasn’t expecting anyone to be at work when she came in early the next morning, so she almost jumped out of her skin when she turned on her office lights to see her boss sitting on the couch. “Catelyn! Gods. Good news, I talked to Jaime’s doctor and she thinks he should be able to come back to work in a day or two.”</p><p>“Brienne.” She grabbed her arm. “I have to talk to you about something.”</p><p>“O-of course, Catelyn. Anything. You know that.” And then she listened in horror as the senator told her that her eldest daughter had slipped her security detail — a not-uncommon event on its own (her younger daughter did so almost daily), but more concerning given that it had happened a week ago and nobody had seen her since.</p><p>“I don’t know what to do. I can’t let this information get out — it will overshadow the campaign and Tywin will have a field day with telling reporters what a bad mother I am, to court the ‘family’ vote. Plus, I worry that it could put her in greater danger, to have it be known that she was out alone somewhere… But she’s never been missing this long.”</p><p>“Let me help,” Brienne said instantly.</p><p>Catelyn regarded her for a moment, then nodded. “All right. Yes. We should be able to manage it — Jaime knows the ropes by now, so he can assume the majority of your duties.”</p><p>Brienne was about to agree, but then thought better of it. “No, wait. He should work with me to find Sansa.”</p><p>“I really don’t think this is the time for jokes, Brienne.”</p><p>“I’m not joking.” She clasped Catelyn’s hands in hers. “Please. I know how it sounds, but he knows more about, well… bad guys, doesn’t he?”</p><p>“Only because he <em>was</em> one!”</p><p>“I’m sorry, but as much as I want to help, he has contacts that I don’t. I don’t think I can do it as well without him.” Catelyn just shook her head sadly. “Please, Catelyn. He won’t do anything to hurt the investigation — I won’t let him. I swear it.”</p><p>There was a long silence. Finally Catelyn spoke. “All right.”</p>
<hr/><p>Brienne hurried down the street, checking her phone for the time. She hadn’t been able to duck out of their mobile office as early as she had hoped — moving the campaign to Harrenhal for a week-long press junket was, in retrospect, a lot more trouble than it was worth, and she was bone-tired from setting it up. What’s more, Jaime had refused to stay and help after she had argued with him about the wisdom of meeting up with a representative of a local crime syndicate. Even when she had made what she thought was an excellent case for them knowing something about Sansa he had insisted that she was barking up the wrong tree, and when she texted him details of a rendez-vous he had left the building completely. “Well it’s not like you need my advice for anything, so why the fuck am I here?”</p><p>Lost in her reverie, she almost missed the address, but caught herself at the last second. She made her way down the side street — well, ‘side street’ was putting it nicely. ‘Filthy alley’ might be more accurate, but Brienne wasn’t afraid of a little muck. She still typed ‘9’ and ‘1’ into her phone, so she could call quickly if things went south.</p><p>“Well, you must be Miss Tarth.” Brienne whirled around, slipping her phone into her back pocket. There stood a man almost as tall as she was, though much broader. He gave her a silky smile. “How can I help you?”</p><p>She asked him the questions she’d prepared, and although he answered readily enough she felt a sense of growing disquiet. He seemed too… pleased. He had refused payment when she offered on the phone, so what did he have to be so happy about now? She reached to pull her phone out, to prepare for the worst, but as soon as she brought it around the man lost his smile. “Now, why would you do that?” Two others that she hadn’t noticed materialized on either side of her. She probably could have bested them one-on-one, but they took her by surprise, and after a brief scuffle she was left with a skinned knee, a bruised ego, and a shattered phone.</p><p>“You know, I’ve changed my mind. I think I <em>will</em> take that payment now.”</p><p>“I — I didn’t bring anything for you.”</p><p>“How impolite. But I’m a generous man, and I think I could make do with whatever’s in your wallet.” Brienne set her jaw. “Or, you could walk out of here with a face even uglier than what you have now. If that’s possible.”</p><p>She shuddered. There was no help for it. She started to reach in her other pocket, but then as if in a dream she heard boots slamming into the puddle next to her. “Is that any way to speak to a lady?”</p><p><em>“Jaime,”</em> she breathed in amazement. He glanced over, but instead of saying anything he swept her leg out from under her and she fell on her rear end with a yelp, sputtering in indignation when his only apology was a whispered, “Shut <em>up,</em> Brienne.” He stepped between her and her captors.</p><p>Their leader held up his hands in supplication. “We don’t want you. Only her money.” His obsequious smile to Jaime made her skin crawl.</p><p>“Well, you’ve got me now. It’s a package deal.”</p><p>“Jaime, what are you doing?” she whispered, trying to stand.</p><p>He reached behind without looking and shoved her backwards. “Just stay down, godsdammit,” he hissed.</p><p>"Oh, a <em>deal." </em>The big man laughed uproariously, and she wanted to throw up. “I see, I see. And what else do we get?”</p><p>“I’m glad you asked.” Brienne heard the unmistakable click of a trigger. Jaime kept his hand inside his jacket but pointed it at the laughing man. “This is what you’ll get, when you mess with us.”</p><p>His words hung in the air. Blood trickled from her knee. Jaime gave them all time to think about it, then offered: “Or… we could pretend this never happened. We all go home, nobody gets hurt, everybody’s happy.”</p><p>The big man, no longer laughing, held eye contact with Jaime, who never flinched. He raised his chin, then nodded at his companions, and they all melted away into the night.</p><p>Jaime yanked his hand out of his jacket to mop his brow, now dripping with sweat. It took her a moment to realize what was missing. "Jaime. Where is it?"</p><p>He spun to face her, hair wild from where he had dragged his fingers through it. "What? Oh, yeah. Tyrion installed some fucking <em>app</em> on my phone a while ago, as a prank. Sound effects and shit. I never expected it to work, though… holy fuck. That could have gone so much worse.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>Brienne’s flat tone of voice made Jaime look at her again, taking in her scuffed shoes, dinged-up knee, stained shirt, and what was sure to be one heck of a shiner. His expression was unreadable.</p><p>He reached one hand under her arm and pulled her to her feet with a bruising force that rocked her back on her heels once upright. She stared at the imprint of his fingers on her bicep. No one had been able to pick her up since she was eight.</p><p>“Hey!” She looked up guiltily. “I asked if you were okay. Can you walk? Did they… are you all right?”</p><p>“Oh. Yes. Thank you,” she said.</p><p>Jaime peered at her. "Did you hit your head?"</p><p>“Hmm? Oh! No, I’m fine. Really.”</p><p>“If you say so.” He sounded doubtful. “Let’s go, it’s not safe here.” He grabbed her elbow and tugged. <em>“Brienne!</em> Come on.”</p><p>“Yes, I just… sorry.” She went. Halfway back to the office she remembered her question. “Jaime?”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Why didn’t you just call the police, instead of confronting them by yourself? You could have been really badly hurt.”</p><p>He took a long time to answer. “So could you.”</p><p>They walked the rest of the way without speaking, his arm shielding her from passersby, the only sound their footsteps hitting the pavement in perfect synchrony. The bright streetlights clearly showed that her arm was unmarred and unmarked, but she could still feel the burn of his fingers.</p>
<hr/><p>Mid-laughter, she turned to see Catelyn at the door of the office she shared with Jaime. “Oh! Catelyn. Hold on, I’ll be right there.” She bent down to whisper in Jaime’s ear. “When I get back, you’re going down.” He held his hand to his mouth in mock apprehension, making her chortle even more. “Shut up.”</p><p>“I didn’t even say anything!”</p><p>“Yes, but you were <em>thinking</em> it. I could tell.”</p><p>“You know me so well, Tarth.”</p><p>Catelyn’s face was somber when she pulled her down the hall to speak with her. “I just got a call from Tyrion Lannister. He said he’d been trying to reach Jaime, but couldn’t get through.”</p><p>“Oh… that’s my fault. He gave me his phone when mine broke and his new one is backordered. I had it on silent while we were working.”</p><p>“Yes, well. The reason he’s been trying to talk to Jaime is that… Tywin Lannister was found dead in his office.”</p><p>“What?” Brienne gasped. “How?”</p><p>“I don’t know. Tyrion was pretty close-lipped about the details with me. But he said that their father named Jaime the executor of his estate, and they need him to fly back home for at least a few days.”</p><p>“Gods, what awful timing. It’s been such a busy week for us,” Brienne said, then felt immediately guilty for being so selfish. She had no idea how Jaime would react to the news, but didn’t think he’d take it lightly.</p><p>“If you think you can still get some work done, I can let you go with him. That way he can do what he needs with his family but if you have any quick questions he can help. Oh, and give him one of our campaign phones — there should at least be one or two that nobody’s claimed.”</p><p>She breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes, thank you, Catelyn. That’s a good idea. I should… go tell him, I guess?”</p><p>“Yes, I think he’d rather hear it from a friend.”</p><p>“I’m not his — ” Brienne answered reflexively, then caught herself as Catelyn raised a skeptical eyebrow. Blushing, she tried to go back into her office, but Catelyn grabbed her arm.</p><p>“Brienne, listen. There’s something else.” Her voice was urgent. “With Tywin gone now, there’s a power vacuum. Someone, or multiple someones, will come along and fill it. Be on the lookout for anything suspicious.”</p><p>She was mystified. “Do you mean Tyrion, or…?”</p><p>“I mean anyone. Cersei’s being trying to break in for years, and this might be her chance. But don’t discount Jaime as a contender. He could throw his weight behind his sister <em>or</em> his brother, or even take a lead role himself.”</p><p>Brienne shook her head. “I really don’t think Jaime would do that, Catelyn.”</p><p>“See that he doesn’t.”</p>
<hr/><p>Still abed, Brienne blearily looked outside her apartment window to see blustery winds and pouring rain. She heaved a sigh and picked up her phone, only to find that it was already ringing.</p><p>“Let me guess. You were about to call and ask for a ride.”</p><p>She considered. “No.”</p><p>Jaime laughed. “I told you I would any time there was bad weather.”</p><p>“I know, but… I didn’t want to assume.”</p><p>“Heavens no, we can’t have that,” he said drily. “What might happen next? Society would collapse.”</p><p>“Just shut up and come over.”</p><p>“Tarth, I’m already here. I didn’t know I’d have to drag your lazy ass out of bed, but now that I think of it you <em>have </em>been coasting for a while, haven’t you?”</p><p>Jaime was still laughing when Brienne hung up on him. She took her sweet time getting ready before going down to the street. Even though they arrived at the office later than usual, the halls were eerily quiet.</p><p>Jaime turned to her. “Is it the weekend or something?”</p><p>“No, it…” She fished out her phone. “Oh, Cat sent everyone a text giving them the day off.”</p><p>“Well… I mean, we’re already here. Might as well get some stuff done.” She agreed, and for several hours they worked blissfully free of interruptions.</p><p>In the afternoon, Brienne walked into the breakroom and was shocked to find Catelyn sobbing with her head and arms on the table. Startled, she tried to leave without disturbing her, but then the senator glanced back with red-rimmed eyes. “I suppose you’ve seen the headlines?”</p><p>“What? What happened?” Brienne peered over Catelyn’s shoulder to read the papers spread out on the table. ‘Scandal Rocks North As Sex Tape Makes The Rounds’. ‘<em>Boy Wonder Sure To Lose Cabinet Seat’.</em> And, from the seediest rag: <strong>‘WINTER CAME’.</strong> “Oh Catelyn, I -”</p><p>“It was that <em>Westerling</em> tramp. She leaked a tape of her and my son… <em>fornicating.</em> She seduced him! And now his career is over.”</p><p>“Oh, I’m sure that’s not true — ” Brienne tried, only to be cut off again.</p><p>“Yes, it is! It’s not just the tape. The timing looks like he slept with her to curry favor with Cersei Lannister in case she gets elected. Nobody will believe he earned his place otherwise. He’s ruined.” She wheeled to face Brienne. “What happened when you went with that traitor back to Casterly Rock last month?”</p><p>“Jaime? I — nothing, Senator. He saw some of his family, um… he stopped his sister from selling off some heirlooms to fund her campaign? He went drinking with his brother, a few times. We went to Tywin’s funeral and they read his will. Nothing important. At least, nothing related to this.”</p><p>“I see.” She turned back to stare dully at the newspapers. “First Sansa, and now this. That will be all, thank you, Brienne.”</p><p>“I’m so sorry.” She didn’t receive an answer, and after waiting for a few seconds, turned and left.</p>
<hr/><p>“Ugh, it’s awful. I introduced them, you know.” Jaime sat glumly in his chair, chewing his lip.</p><p>“You did?” She hadn’t known that. “What a weird coincidence.”</p><p>“Yeah, she was in my cousin’s class at school. She always seemed like a sweet girl.” He shook his head. “Anyway, I saw her at a party in King’s Landing a few months ago, and she was making goo-goo eyes at Robb, so I waved him over in the guise of discussing some campaign nonsense or other.” He shrugged halfheartedly. “I thought they looked cute together.”</p><p>“You couldn’t have known,” Brienne said.</p><p>“Yeah, but it still sucks. I saw her mother when we went back last month. If I had known something was up with Jeyne I would have pulled Sybell aside to talk to her, but she was just holed up with Cersei the whole time, talking about the gods know what.” Jaime looked down at his phone when it beeped. “Catelyn wants to see me. Are you okay for a little while?”</p><p>“Yes, of course. I want to finish analyzing this footage,” she replied.</p><p>It was dark by the time Jaime came back. Brienne looked up from her computer screen, relieved. “Oh, Jaime, thank the gods. I’m swamped with — ”</p><p>“What, <em>exactly,</em> did you say to her about our trip?” His voice was cold and careful.</p><p>“What?” she asked, bewildered. “What do you mean? What did she say?”</p><p>“No, Brienne, what did <em>you</em> say? What did you tell her?”</p><p>“Nothing! I mean, I told her the truth. What happened?”</p><p>Jaime sighed and slumped into his desk chair. “She fired me, that’s what. Says that she knows I was involved with the tape being leaked. Said that she was wrong to ever trust me in the first place, and clearly I was setting her up from the beginning, and it’s thanks to me and my family that her husband is dead, her son lost his job, and her daughter hasn’t been found.” Brienne sucked in her breath; that last was a low blow. “She claims to have ‘proof’ of my treachery, though she refused to tell me what it was, so it was impossible for me to refute.” He dropped his head into his hand.</p><p>“She… what? What proof?”</p><p>“Who the fuck knows? I’m out either way. I’ll have to make some calls, see if I can get in on another campaign or something.” He lifted his head to look at her. “I might be able to get you something too, if you wanted. Better than just being an assistant. Come with me.”</p><p>“Come <em>with</em> you? I can’t do that! Catelyn’s always been there for me. I can’t betray her. Besides, there’s only four months left before the election, and we're nowhere near finding Sansa.”</p><p>“We could still look into her disappearance from somewhere else. Actually, it might even be easier to interview people on the road…” He shook his head to clear it. “Brienne. I know she’s important to you, but nobody is worth serving in perpetuity. Nothing good lasts forever. You have to be thinking of your own career, too.”</p><p>“Well, I’m sorry that I don’t think of people as disposable!”</p><p>He furrowed his brow. “I just don’t want you to throw your life away serving someone who isn’t worthy of your efforts.”</p><p>Her head was swimming. “Don’t talk about her that way.”</p><p>“Well, what do you expect?” Jaime threw up his hands. “I understand her being upset, but she just fired me because she thinks I’m part of some big Lannister conspiracy. That I’ve been in cahoots with my father and sister the whole time, and my whole time here has been a ruse.”</p><p>“Well…” Something didn’t quite add up.</p><p>“Well what?”</p><p>“Why is she so sure she’s right if there’s no truth in it?”</p><p>“What the hells?”</p><p>Brienne colored. “It’s just a question.”</p><p>“You’re actually considering it,” Jaime said in disbelief. “Fucking wow, Brienne. I see how it is. You don’t want to come work with me because after <em>everything</em> we’ve been through, you still think I’m going to screw you over the first chance I get.” His eyes flitted from her to his desk that was covered in piles of papers and folders, clearly thinking of the hours they had spent there working.</p><p>“No, Jaime, I —”</p><p>“Or maybe you actually think she’s right?” he interrupted icily. “No, don’t bother explaining. Actually, this is good. I’m glad I know now.” He turned on his heel and stalked toward the door, then stopped once more. “Try not to kill yourself working on an enterprise that’s doomed to fail anyway, I know how much you love doing that.” His gaze swept the room again, from the big windows back to their cluttered workspaces. He finished by glaring at her, and slammed the door behind him with a resounding BANG that made her teeth chatter.</p><p>Brienne sat motionless in a silence that somehow felt very loud indeed. As if on cue, the teetering stack on Jaime’s desk chose that moment to collapse onto the floor in an avalanche of boxes and files. It kicked up a great cloud of dust, making her sneeze. Maybe it was also responsible for the pinpricks in her eyes.</p><p>She sat for another minute, then trudged to what had until very recently been Jaime’s side of their shared office, and knelt to clean what she could of the mess she’d made.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Brienne gets stuck between a rock and a hard place.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>One of the three prompts given by the inimitable SigilBroken had gotten loose last chapter to roam the veldt, but I managed to lasso it back home for this one.</p><p>Filled prompt: Hotel bar.</p><p>I wanted to sincerely thank everyone who left a kudos or comment last chapter; I know that right now with literal scores of unbelievable fics being published at the same time, a long-ass unfinished AU about POLITICS, of all things (in <em>this </em>economy?) isn't very compelling, even though it actually has very little to do with politics, but it means a lot to know that some people liked it and there's a chance I haven't gone completely off the deep end with it. Also, SigilBroken is the best fic recipient in the world and I’d recommend you all get one of your very own except you can’t have this one, she’s mine. </p><p>As I mentioned earlier, this chapter is more straightforward in terms of structure, so that’s a plus. There are one or two scenes that occur outside the main timeline, but I think it should be obvious with context cues. And yes that <em>is</em> a rating change, congratulations to all of us! </p><p>P.S. I sat bolt upright in my cozy chair when I realized that parliamentary governments usually have MPs instead of senators and having Jaime kill the Prime Minister rather than the President was probably a lapse in judgment on my part, but let’s say it’s an intentional muddling of real-world political structures to enhance the fantasy setting. Please consider this error indicative of the general amount of planning I put into the political angle of this fic.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Brienne rolled over and silenced her alarm clock. By the shadows in her room she knew that it was already dusk, and she’d slept most of the day away. But then again, she’d been up most of the night. She lay in her bed, willing herself to get up, but couldn’t quite manage it yet. She had used to own slippers, but she’d lost them some five hotels back, and although she’d grown accustomed to being chilly, there was something uniquely unsettling about stepping onto frigid tile in her bare feet.</p><p>But despite her best efforts, she was soon regarding herself in the harsh light of the bathroom mirror and despairing at what she saw. Her hair, grown past her shoulders, was dull and lifeless, and the hollows under her eyes, stark against her pale face, resisted any attempt to cover them.</p><p>Brienne sighed and finished dressing. On went her nicest clean top, on went her only necklace, on went her sensible flats. She shrugged into her coat, rubbing her shoulder as she did so, and was grateful for the coziness it provided along with her scarf. After opening the room safe and taking out her last <em>(last, oh gods)</em> bundle of money, leaving it completely bare, she had nothing left to do but head for the elevator. She knew it was the last moment that she’d be able to look anything other than poised, and slumped against the wall with one hand tucked inside the neckline of her coat; it was so much warmer there. As the elevator descended, she reread the latest text on her burner phone.</p><p>
  <em>Your contact will meet you at 2000 hours in the lobby of the Crossroads Hotel. You will wear a red scarf to identify yourself, and know them by the same. Should you be spotted together, you will say that you are on a romantic outing to avoid suspicion. The remainder of your payment will be expected at the end of the meeting. Failure to deliver will result in dire consequences for both you and your employer.</em>
</p><p>Jaime would have been proud, Brienne reflected wryly. She didn’t think she’d ever feel <em>comfortable</em> talking to mysterious strangers who were just as likely to insult as help her — several times she’d broken down in tears as soon as she was alone again — but she was no longer the stupid girl who thought she was strong enough to handle anything. Gone were the days of giving out her real name, of relying on the supposed goodwill of shady tipsters rather than arranging compensation beforehand, of meeting in dark corners. What’s more, she no longer trusted any information she got unless she could verify that the source was legitimate. She’d followed up on too many false leads already.</p><p>Yes, she’d had to get much wiser in Jaime’s absence, and even if things hadn’t always gone perfectly to plan, her continued existence was proof that it was working. She should be grateful, she told herself firmly, and not for the first time.</p><p>The elevator finally spat her out onto the ground floor, and she checked the time again. Only 7:48. Her mouth was dry; turning, she saw a dimly-lit bar in a room off the hotel lobby. She had some time to kill.</p><p>The grizzled bartender smiled at her as she slid onto a stool. “What’ll it be, miss?”</p><p>Brienne calculated in her head. “Just seltzer water, please.” He gave her another smile along with her drink, and waved away her payment with a wink. She still stuffed a bill in the tip jar when he wasn’t looking.</p><p>Sipping her soda, she checked her phone again, though she wasn’t sure what for. Even if she’d been using the same number… After Jaime had left Catelyn’s service she had called him repeatedly, first in attempts to apologize or explain, and eventually just so she could hear his outgoing message. But after less than a week, instead of his droll voice she heard “this phone number is no longer in service.” She could guess what that meant: he'd blocked her.</p><p>Her heart ached with how badly she wanted to see him. Nothing had gone the way it was supposed to — she had failed at <em>everything,</em> and she had lost…</p><p>But then there he was, strolling into the room like he owned it. Jaime. Suddenly her clothes were far too hot, and her necklace felt heavy against the rapid rise and fall of her chest. He leaned against the bar and flashed a winning smile while ordering a drink, then turned and saw her. His smile froze.</p><p>Brienne sucked in her breath. “Jaime?” Her voice was much higher than she would have liked. “What are you doing here?”</p><p>He frowned. “What are <em>you</em> doing here?”</p><p>“I mean — you’re not… are you?”</p><p>“I’m not what?” He tilted his head, and she belatedly realized that he wasn’t wearing a scarf.</p><p>“... Nothing. Never mind, sorry.” She wished for something to hide behind, a pillar or a conveniently-placed bookcase, but her body remained stubbornly and glaringly visible. Eyes still on her, Jaime took his drink. She wasn’t sure if he would join her, but after a few moments he squared his shoulders and strode over. “This seat taken?” he asked.</p><p>“No,” Brienne answered, examining her hands and the wood grain of the bar.</p><p>“Good.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw him take a swig and slam the glass down. “So.”</p><p>“So.”</p><p>He waited for her to elaborate, but she said nothing else. “Is that all I get, after almost three months?”</p><p>It wasn’t <em>Brienne's</em> fault it had been three months. “Hello, how are you?” she asked dutifully.</p><p>“How gracious. I’m doing all right. Though I’m sure you weren’t worried about that.” She cringed. “And you?” He peered at her face more closely. “Actually, you look like shit. What happened, did you stay up all night reading the dictionary?”</p><p>“I’m fine,” she said shortly.</p><p>“Cat’s campaign donations dried up so she stopped paying her staff?”</p><p>“Stop it.”</p><p>“Have you even been eating?”</p><p>Brienne's face was hot. “The senator is in good financial standing and as I said, I’m fine.”</p><p>He leaned back, but his eyes still scanned her frame. “So stubborn. Why <em>are</em> you here? Isn’t she supposed to be at some fundraiser in Dorne?”</p><p>“Um… she is. I’m just doing a special project for her.”</p><p>“A ‘special project’. Wow. Fitting, for such a dedicated employee. I bet you sure are glad you stayed on to work for her. Imagine missing out on,” he gestured broadly, “all of this.”</p><p>Brienne sniped back without thinking. “How’s your sister’s campaign going?”</p><p>He dropped his arms to glare at her. “I have no idea. I don’t work for Cersei. You should know that.” In fact, she did know it, but had been too concerned with getting a dig in at his expense. She regretted it instantly.</p><p>Unable to bear his hurt expression <em>(again)<em>,</em></em> she surreptitiously checked her phone under the overhang and craned her neck, searching. She hoped they hadn’t stood her up.</p><p>“What are you doing? The bartender’s right there, you can’t be <em>that</em> blind.”</p><p>“I’m… um.” <em>Oh, hells.</em> “I am — I’m meeting someone. They’re late.”</p><p>He blinked, and scowled at her. “My apologies, I didn’t realize I was interrupting your <em>date.”</em></p><p>“It’s not like that, it’s just a work thing.”</p><p>“Oh, a ‘work thing.’ Uh-huh. Brienne Tarth, on the prowl, a trail of broken hearts in her wake.”</p><p>“That’s not funny.”</p><p>“It sure isn’t.”</p><p>Brienne flushed, fiddling with the collar of her coat. “I have a business meeting.”</p><p>“Because all business meetings happen at eight PM, in a <em>bar.”</em> He threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, that’s who you thought <em>I</em> was! You thought you were meeting me. How devastating for you.”</p><p>“It’s not that, I just…” She just what?</p><p>Jaime watched her carefully and sighed when she stayed silent. “Right. Is that why you’re wearing a scarf so loud I can barely hear you speak? Let me guess — they’re going to wear the same thing.” She nodded reluctantly. “Ah, a <em>blind</em> date. What are you wearing under there? Something just as garish? You’ll have to communicate via semaphore.”</p><p>Brienne rolled her eyes and flipped open her coat just to shut him up. His eyes widened as he took her in, focusing on… she glanced down and saw with horror that he was staring at her chest, her necklace delicately and lovingly framed by cleavage that she could have sworn wasn’t there earlier. Her whole body was on fire — she didn’t think she’d ever felt so exposed.</p><p>“The push-up bra was a gift,” she blurted, hoping to distract him from the sight. It seemed to work, as his gaze drifted back up to her face, and she took the opportunity to close her coat again. But his dazed expression said the damage had already been done.</p><p>“I just needed to dress up in case anybody saw us. A date is the cover story, but that’s as far as it goes. Really.”</p><p>“Who… who are you meeting, again?” he asked hoarsely.</p><p>“Nobody! You don’t know them.” Probably.</p><p>“Who are you meeting dressed like <em>that?”</em> he pressed.</p><p>“Shut up, you — oh, no.” Brienne's heart leapt into her throat when she glanced into the hotel lobby behind him.</p><p>“What?” He turned to look with her. “Is that Ron Connington?”</p><p>“How do you know him?” She tried to keep her voice even.</p><p>“He was a vendor for my family at one point, but I think we fired him,” he mused. “What happened?”</p><p>“Nothing, I just — can you block my view? I don’t want him to see me.”</p><p>“Oh, <em>now</em> you want my help,” he groused, but obligingly turned himself so the full breadth of his torso was between her and Connington. “Here, I’ll narrate for you so you don’t miss anything.”</p><p>“That’s really not ne —”</p><p><em>“Ron</em> is pacing around the lobby like a dog settling down for a nap. From what I remember, that’s about his level of intelligence, so that tracks. He’s on his phone. He looks pissed about something, the gods know what.” Her heart started to slow back to its normal rhythm. She could deal with this. She would just be beholden to Jaime again, and she had lately discovered that there were far worse things to be. “Well, would you look at that? <em>He’s</em> wearing a red scarf too.”</p><p>“Everyone always called him ‘Red’, I think it was his hair,” Brienne replied absently. Then his words sank in and the bottom dropped out of her stomach. “A red scarf?”</p><p>“Yep,” he answered, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word.</p><p>It couldn’t be. “Oh, no.”</p><p>“Why, who is he?” Jaime did a double take when he saw her face. “Brienne, what the fuck have you gotten yourself into?”</p><p>She felt like she was going to be sick. “He — he must be the person I’m meeting. I never expected…”</p><p>“Who is he? <em>Why</em> are you meeting him?”</p><p>“He’s a…” Brienne took a deep breath. “He’s a source. About Sansa.”</p><p>“Oh.” His brow cleared in recognition. “You should’ve said.” Then he focused on her again. “Wait, what <em>else</em> is he to you?”</p><p>She searched for a plausible lie. “He’s my ex.” Half-truth, then.</p><p>“Your<em> ex?”</em> Jaime almost yelled.</p><p>She ducked down again, afraid that he’d drawn too much attention to them. “Be quiet,” she hissed.</p><p>“You never told me about your ex.”</p><p>That wasn’t an accident. “Why would I?”</p><p>“You don’t seem happy to see him.”</p><p>“No. It… ended badly.” Her voice only wavered a little, which she took as an accomplishment.</p><p>Jaime set his jaw. “I’m not leaving you alone with him,” he said firmly.</p><p>Brienne sighed, frustrated. “You have to. My contact was very specific — no third parties. He doesn’t want anyone finding out about this. Only one staff member allowed. Or former staff members, I guess.”</p><p>“So what? You’re paying him, right? He’ll stay. He wants his money.”</p><p>She threw up her hands. “I’m not paying him <em>that</em> much! I’m telling you, if he thinks you’re here to investigate him, he’ll walk.”</p><p>“Wow, you must really want this date,” he said drily, eyes flicking back to her chest.</p><p>She blushed and pulled her coat more tightly closed. “It’s not a date. I really need that information. I just… am not looking forward to the conversation.”</p><p>“Well, then.” Jaime studied her with a gleam in his eye. “You really only have one option here. So what you need to decide is, do you feel more like a sweetie or a baby?”</p><p>Brienne gaped at him in confusion. “What?”</p><p>“Or maybe more like a… honey? Lovebug?” His smile was mocking. “Sugartits?”</p><p>“What… what are you talking about?”</p><p>“If it’s ‘pumpkin’, then I’m sorry, but the whole deal’s off.”</p><p>At her continued stare Jaime very deliberately leaned forward, plucked her scarf from her neck, and wrapped it around his own shoulders. “Thanks for warming it up, darling. You’re always so good to me.” He winked.</p><p>A frisson of something that really ought to have been dismay shot through her. “No. It’ll never work. You can’t!” she whispered.</p><p>“Sure it will, don’t get your panties in a twist.” He started to run his hand up her jeans, presumably to check the offending garment.</p><p>Brienne slapped it away. “I don’t <em>want</em> it to work!”</p><p>“You’re free to make that choice, but let me just invite you to consider… the alternative.” They turned together to regard Ron, now peering into the bar area. Jaime looked back at her, raising an eyebrow. He had her, and he knew it.</p><p>Behind him, Ron had finally spotted the scarf and strode towards them.</p><p>“What’ll it be, Brienne? Frying pan or fire?”</p><p>
  <em>Which is which?</em>
</p><p>Her mouth worked soundlessly. Ron loomed ever-larger in the background. Jaime leaned in to murmur in her ear, hot breath enveloping the shell. “It’s now or never, sweetling. Pick your poison.” If he hadn’t pressed her into her stool she would have slid off of it.</p><p>Brienne remembered his fingers on her arm. She’d had her fill of the cold. She turned her face into his hair and breathed in shakily, then whispered a response.</p><p>She felt Jaime smile against her neck, which gave her another thoroughly undignified shiver. He waited until the sound of footsteps behind him had stopped, until she knew even without looking that Ron was standing and waiting.</p><p>Jaime took his time in straightening up, gently peeling her hand from his waist. He leaned back in for a moment and she had the strangest thought that he was going to kiss her, but he just inhaled slowly and then turned to face Ron.</p><p>“Oh, hello there.” He stuck out his hand, smiling broadly. “Jaime Lannister, happiest man on earth. And you are?”</p><p>Ron shook it dubiously. “I’m Red. I was… supposed to be meeting someone? Your scarf —” He finally spotted Brienne sitting behind Jaime. “Oh, you’ve <em>got</em> to be kidding me.”</p><p>He shouldn’t have been able to hurt her, and yet she had to take a deep breath to steady herself on the stool.</p><p>Jaime glanced at her. “I’m sorry, do you have a problem with my girlfriend?”</p><p>That got Ron’s attention. <em>“Your</em> girlfriend?”</p><p><em>“Yes,</em> my girlfriend. What, did I stutter?”</p><p>“I… oh, fuck you, Tarth. I can’t believe this shit.” Jaime’s fingers started to drift worryingly close to each other in a proto-fist, and she clasped them in her own to stop him from doing anything stupid. Somehow, this seemed to startle him more than Ron’s outburst, and he stared at their hands until Ron spoke again.</p><p>“I am going to <em>murder…</em> fine.” Ron controlled himself with visible effort. “I am supposed to be meeting her, tonight. For a…” he grimaced. “A date.”</p><p>Brienne couldn’t see the mirror behind the bar, but she knew she must resemble some frantic, overripe, tomato. Her shirt felt damp under the arms and her palm stung where her fingernails cut into it.</p><p>Jaime, by contrast, could be sunning himself on some tropical beach. “Well, that doesn’t sound right,” he said, slinging his other arm around her shoulder and drawing her in. “Does it, babe?”</p><p>She strove to keep her voice light. “No, it sure doesn’t.” Fingers dug into her tricep until she added, <em>“babe”,</em> through gritted teeth.</p><p>“Seems like I’d have heard about that,” Jaime drawled. “I tell you what, Red, I think you have her confused with someone else.”</p><p>“But then how do you explain this message I got tonight?” He hit ‘reply’ on his phone screen and her own dinged in response. Jaime shrugged, supremely underwhelmed by what Ron clearly felt to be his trump card. “If you <em>are</em> together, I’m sorry to tell you this, man, but it looks like she’s trying to hook up with other guys.” His lips curled into a moue of faux disappointment at having to relate this troubling news. <em>He must really need this money.</em></p><p>Jaime laughed in his face. “Cheating? Are you serious? You really don’t know her at all, do you?” Brienne winced, waiting for him to say something horrible about how she would never be able to do better than him, but instead he glanced at her and merely added, “she's too honorable for that.” She blinked.</p><p>“Uh-huh, whatever,” Ron said. “Well in that case, you won’t mind if I talk to her in private for a minute.”</p><p>“By all means!” Jaime replied expansively. She started to get up, a task made much more difficult by his refusal to let go of her hand. Eventually she pried his fingers from hers, only for him to grab them again and bring her hand in for a kiss. “I miss you already, loviekins.” Ron looked revolted.</p><p>“Yes, I… the same,” she mumbled, and followed Ron to a nearby corner.</p><p>“What is this, Tarth? Are you double-crossing me?” he demanded, making no effort to keep his voice down. “Don't even think about revealing my identity. Is this revenge for me turning you down? Gods, you’re pathetic.” In the background, Jaime sat up straighter on his stool.</p><p>“Don’t be ridiculous.”</p><p>“I thought my handler was clear.” Behind him Jaime mouthed <em>‘handler?’ </em>and she had to bite her cheek to keep from smiling. “He was supposed to tell you that my anonymity was paramount. Absolutely no other operatives.”</p><p>“Ten seconds of research will tell you, <em>Red, </em>that I haven’t worked for the Stark campaign in months!” Jaime called out from his seat. Brienne ran back over to shush him. “No, this is just one of my few nights off and we wanted to spend it together. You know how it is.” He walked his fingers up her forearm as she unsuccessfully tried to shake him off.</p><p>Ron came up to her and pointed his finger in her face. “If I find out that you’re fucking with me, I’ll make you pay for it."</p><p>“I'm not,” Brienne said, resigned. “I did arrange this meeting, but I didn’t know that <em>you</em> were going to be the one coming tonight.”</p><p>“A likely story.”</p><p>“Look, do you want the money or not? Don’t worry about Jaime, he’s just…” She was at a loss for words.</p><p>“A man in love?” Jaime waggled his eyebrows. “C'mon Red, I don’t know what your deal is, but surely you can’t blame a guy for wanting a night out with his girl.”</p><p>Apparently Ron was desperate. “Do you swear not to share the information I give to you with anyone except each other?”</p><p>“That's not a problem,” Brienne replied quickly, feeling Jaime’s eyes on her as he did the same a beat later.</p><p>“Absolutely! In fact, fair’s fair — what are you paying him, sweet pea? I’ll double it.”</p><p>That pushed Ron over the edge into acquiescence. “Fine. Shall we sit?” He stalked over to a round table with chairs around it and sat, arms crossed and jaw clenched like it was taking everything he had to not run out of the room. Jaime bounced up to follow, dragging Brienne behind him and pulling out a chair for her. Once he had scooched in next to her, he smacked his forehead theatrically with a rueful grin.</p><p>“Oh, muffin, it’s your <em>business</em> meeting! Why didn't you just say so? That makes <em>way</em> more sense — how could you expect me to believe you were <em>dating</em> her? You’re so thirsty, Red.”</p><p>Ron opened his mouth, then shut it again.</p><p><em>“Brienne</em> dating <em>you?</em> Nobody wants to see that, Red. Let’s just stick with honesty. That should work much better for us than whatever cockamamie, cloak-and-dagger, scheme <em>you</em> were dreaming up. Won’t it, baby?”</p><p>Jaime watched her expectantly. Why was he making her <em><em>say</em></em> it again? “I… yes. Yes, it will.”</p><p>He smirked. “Fetch a menu, Red. I think we’re gonna have a lot of fun tonight.” He threw back the rest of his drink in one gulp.</p><hr/><p>Jaime still worked fast, though he seemed curiously uninterested in actual questioning. Within ten minutes (all while idly twirling her hair around his finger and drawing circles on her back), he had covered: Renly’s death (“Dude I know, it sounds fake as shit, right? Like who dies of a <em>bee sting?</em> But he told Bri he wouldn’t need his epi-pen!”), Brienne’s tenure at Senator Stark’s office (“Stark may <em><em>act</em></em> like she’s too egalitarian to choose an employee of the month, but it’s really because it would be her every time and that would be demoralizing to the rest of the staff”), and their alleged plans to move in together.</p><p>“We’ll know more after the election, of course. But if Senator Stark is reelected, I expect Bri will keep splitting her time between the North and King’s Landing. Luckily, my new job allows for telecommuting, so I can be flexible and go with her most of the time, if she’ll have me. Her ability to have an independent career is really important to the both of us.” He squeezed her hand.</p><p>Brienne stared at him. What hidden pants pocket had he pulled that nonsense from? “Wow, sweetie,” she managed tentatively. “I hadn’t realized things would work out so neatly for us.”</p><p>He beamed at her and pulled her hand in for another kiss. “Well it took a little finagling, cutie pie, but I told them I wouldn’t sign an offer without that in writing, and eventually they caved!” Brienne mused that <em>this</em> was the missing element from her recent interviews— someone who could make up outrageous lies on the spot and commit to them with total abandon. It was a rare skill. Though she wished Jaime would use it for something other than giving her fantasies that would take a lot longer to leave her brain that it took for him to put them in.</p><p>“And what… is your job, now?” Ron gritted out, having quickly learned that The Jaime Show had an audience participation component.</p><p>“Oh, I’m sure you wouldn’t recognize the name, we try to keep a low profile, but we help coordinate grassroots efforts, community organizing, that kind of stuff, all over Westeros. I like it a lot — it really keeps me busy, and it’s so meaningful to be out in the field. This week we’ve been doing voter registration across the whole Riverlands province, but who knows what next week will bring?” He snapped his fingers as though just realizing something. “Say, Red, you seem like an enterprising young guy. How would you like it if I hooked you up with something? It’s gotta be better than chasing after unavailable women in bars.”</p><p>Ron seethed. It was clear that he, having made the decision to stay and earn his money rather than leave, was taking pains to avoid setting Jaime off. After all, it didn't take much to see that Jaime was by far the more volatile — and thus, dangerous — of his interviewers. “That’s… very kind of you, but I don’t know if that sounds like my scene.”</p><p>“Oh, well yeah. No, my job doesn’t sound like your kind of thing at all. But — how do you feel about working for the next Prime Minister? You must know my sister’s running. I can get you an interview with her head office within the week.”</p><p>“You can?” Ron asked, showing genuine interest in something for the first time all evening.</p><p>“Sure, why not,” Jaime said flatly. Brienne wondered how Ron couldn’t tell that Jaime had more emotional investment in his dirty napkin than in the prospect of Ron finding gainful employment, but he seemed blissfully unaware.</p><p>By contrast, <em>she</em> had an idea for how she might finally get things back on track. Step one: verify the source’s legitimacy. “Dearest?” she said sweetly, touching Jaime’s arm.</p><p>He gave her his attention instantly. “Yes! Precious. What is it?”</p><p>“Do you know what might get Red his job faster? If you went over his resume and references now, so they didn’t have to waste as much time vetting him in the office.”</p><p>He beamed. “What an amazing idea.” He turned to Ron. “This woman, am I right? Yeah, no, I’d love to be able to give them more details about Red — what did you say your last name was? Oh… shit, that’s a code name, right? My bad. Actually it’s the <em>weirdest</em> fucking thing, but you almost look a bit familiar.”</p><p>Ron narrowed his eyes as he looked between the two of them. “On second thought —”</p><p>“Oh, no worries, man, I get it. We can talk more about that later. For now, take a gander at that apps menu — I’m buying. I gotta go see a man about a horse.”</p><p>Jaime stood and nodded his head in the direction of the restrooms, so Brienne followed him. As soon as they were out of Ron’s eyesight, she dropped his hand and leaned in to furiously hiss in his ear, “What are you doing?”</p><p>His eyebrows shot up. “What are <em>you</em> doing?”</p><p><em>“I</em> am trying to get information out of a source. <em>You…</em>I can’t deal with you at all right now.”</p><p>Jaime shook his head. “You still don’t have any faith in me, do you? You can’t expect someone to just give you what you want if they don’t trust you.”</p><p>She ran her hands through her hair in exasperation. “And how long is that going to take? I don’t — you seem to be <em>enjoying</em> this!”</p><p>“Oh please, Brienne. Don’t act like this isn’t the most fun you’ve had in months. I know you better than that.”</p><p>She wasn’t sure she’d characterize it as ‘fun’. She felt… restless. Hectic. Yes, it <em><em>was</em></em> secretly satisfying to see Ron so thoroughly trounced in their conversation, but… fun?</p><p>He was still looking at her, oddly intent. “Just… I need a minute.” And she hurried into the restroom.</p><hr/><p>Brienne spent several minutes with her stifling coat open so she could breathe, splashing water on her face to cool off and staring at her reflection as she had earlier that night. She didn’t really recognize the woman in the mirror. She wasn’t sure if she had ever seen her before, but if she had, it had been a while.</p><p>When she thought she was ready to go back to the table, she closed her eyes and placed her hand on her chest, waiting for her heartbeat to slow as she grounded herself. She could do this. No wilting flower was she.</p><p>When Brienne slid back into her chair Jaime’s head shot up, a look of relief flashing across his face before he covered it with a smile. “Angel! You’re back! Gods, I missed you. Nothing’s the same when you’re gone.” She just breathed out slowly, not trusting anything she might say in reply. Even when he pulled her in for a bone-crushing hug, she still stayed mostly composed and only melted the tiniest bit in his arms before hurriedly pushing herself back upright.</p><p>The sudden shift unsteadied her and she shot out an arm for balance, grabbing onto his leg above the knee. She heard a sharp intake of breath and felt muscles bunch up under her hand. She was mortified, and straightened to pull back, but her nervousness made her clumsy and her fingers slid further up his thigh. His voice trailed off.</p><p>Brienne needed to pick her hand up; she knew that. Jaime’s earlier familiarity aside, there was no excuse for her to be touching him like this.</p><p>Then again, he was quiet for the first time all evening. And he was so warm.</p><p>Ron had noticed the conversational lull and scrutinized the two of them. “What’s wrong with you? You better not be trying to get out of paying me.”</p><p>“I’m fine,” Jaime said shortly. Brienne tried to gauge his expression surreptitiously, not wanting to reveal her intense interest or awareness of his tension.</p><p><em>“Are</em> you fine, honey?” she asked.</p><p>He locked gazes with her. A vein stood out in his neck. Time stood still for a moment, and then he deliberately leaned back and gave her a lazy smile. “I’m great, dollface. And you?” <em>Your move.</em></p><p>“I’m…” Brienne swallowed. He looked at her steadily. She felt something inside her straining to come out. Something reckless, and scorching, and ephemeral, but all the more precious for it. Besides, in all the time she had known Jaime, when had she <em><em>ever</em></em> allowed him to win something without a fight?</p><p>She didn’t remove her hand. Instead, she turned back to their companion.</p><p>“I think it’s time for you to answer <em>my</em> questions now, Red.”</p><p>Ron looked to Jaime for support. “But he said we could —”</p><p>“Sorry, Red,” he drawled. “Whatever the lady wants, the lady gets.” He winked at her.</p><p>Then Brienne launched into a barrage of queries without giving Ron a chance to recover. She felt she was speaking more quickly, more confidently, than she ever had in an interrogation before, as though her boldness in one domain was carrying over into the others. With the part of her brain that wasn’t concerned with the interview, she dedicated herself to getting Jaime to concede defeat. But they were pretty evenly matched.</p><p>When she cajoled Ron that it really shouldn’t be that hard for him to remember a few simple facts, Jaime murmured that it might be harder than she thought, causing her to forget the next question she had been planning to ask until she rechecked her notebook.</p><p>He laughed out loud when Brienne considered the enormous plate of appetizers Ron had ordered and chose a jalapeño popper, but grew much more subdued after she took a bite and moaned in pleasure from how good it tasted. After all, she had been hungry for so long.</p><p>When she sweetly offered to fetch Jaime’s wallet for him so he could pay, he acquiesced with a bow and watched her as she got increasingly flustered, eventually revealing that he kept it in his <em>other</em> pocket.</p><p>When Brienne picked up a mozzarella stick, exaggeratedly stretching out the cheese then languidly sucking it into her mouth, he stared for so long that she asked him if there was something on her face. His eyes widened even further, and he only seemed to recover when he found a stuffed potato skin to eat while shooting her meaningful looks. It was… surprisingly obscene.</p><p>And through it all, she had her hand on Jaime’s leg, but if she were being honest with herself, she didn’t know which one of them that was having a greater effect on. It may very well have been her, if the wave of giddiness she felt every time he moved could be trusted.</p><p>Suddenly she realized that she didn’t have any further questions for Ron. Surely that couldn’t be right — after all that build-up, he had given her almost nothing that she didn’t already know.</p><p>“Is that all the information you have for me, Red?” she asked, not bothering to hide her disappointment.</p><p>“I mean… okay, there is one other person I haven’t asked, but they don’t give stuff up easily. It’ll cost you.”</p><p>“We’ll pay,” they said together.</p><p>Ron sighed. “Whatever. I’ll be back in a few, I have to make a call.” He walked toward the lobby, phone in hand.</p><p>Brienne had been so wrapped up in combat that she had almost forgotten what the battle was about. But when Jaime grabbed her wrist to halt her caresses as soon as Ron was out of earshot, it all came flooding back. Dear gods, what had she been <em>doing? </em>If she had felt exposed before…</p><p>“Since when have you been so interested in playing with fire, Blue Eyes?” Jaime kept his voice light but it had a desperate edge to it that it hadn’t before.</p><p>“Oh, is that what this is?” Dear gods, if only.</p><p>
  <em> “Yes.” </em>
</p><p>Brienne had to laugh even though her feeling of unmet longing was at a fever pitch. “Jaime, I know you. You can’t fool me as easily as you can Ron.”</p><p>His eyes burned. “I’d be happy to demonstrate if you need further proof.”</p><p>“I don’t believe you,” she said, aiming for ‘dismissive’ but landing somewhere closer to ‘plaintive’. “I can’t.”</p><p>He huffed a soundless laugh, and leaned in closer as he beckoned her to do the same. She did so as if under a spell, feeling her hand shift up as she moved. He spoke softly but clearly, enunciating each syllable. “All you need to do, Brienne, is decide what you want. Because if it were up to me, I would have carried you out of this room and made you forget your own name five minutes after I got here.”</p><p><em>“Jaime!” </em>she gasped in shock.</p><p>“See? You know your lines.”</p><p>“You can’t just…”</p><p>“Oh, I <em>very</em> much could. Would you like me to show you?”</p><p>“I… I…” He just watched her calmly as she stammered. To the naked <em>(naked)</em> eye he was completely unaffected, but to hear him tell it… It couldn’t be true, though, could it?</p><p>Brienne had stayed quiet too long and might never be able to speak again at this point. Jaime smiled pleasantly at her as he waited, but her hand was still on his leg and even though he might be able to remain aloof while that was happening, she couldn’t. There was an ever-increasing possibility that she might just burst into flames.</p><p>Brienne felt a bead of sweat drip down from her hairline, slide down her face, and fall to the base of her throat. From his vantage point, Jaime couldn’t see the landing, nor how it ran down even further between her breasts, but he stared at her coat like he was watching it all in slow-motion X-ray vision, and she knew he was remembering what he had seen there earlier. Her hand felt something<em><em>… </em>twitch. </em>She gasped again in spite of herself.</p><p>His eyes locked onto hers. She fell into them, lips parted, as she moved her thumb the tiniest bit, just enough to graze her nail along the very edge of…</p><p>Jaime abruptly sat up and hissed, “He’s coming back.”</p><p>Brienne leaned back into her chair, feeling as though she were moving underwater. What had just… what?</p><p>When Ron sat down again, she moved her hand closer to Jaime’s knee for the moment, and took several deep breaths, not wanting to be completely distracted while Ron was speaking. “All right, I do have one other thing. This is top-secret, so I hope you’re prepared to make it worth my while.”</p><p>Jaime rolled his eyes. “How many more times do you want us to promise that? I pay my debts.”</p><p>“A man’s promises are only as good as he is, Lannister. Yours are worthless.”</p><p>Brienne knew that Jaime didn’t care a whit for Ron’s good opinion (or lack thereof) but felt guilty nonetheless for not defending him as vociferously as he did her. What could she say that would shut Ron up? She didn’t have Jaime’s knack for cutting taunts.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Red, but I’m going to have to ask you to stop speaking about my boyfriend like that. You may not understand it, but I know that he’s a good man, and I’m honored that he chose me for a partner.” She rubbed her hand on Jaime’s knee reassuringly — it seemed the least she could do after teasing him for so long. But instead of smiling back at her, he shifted in his seat and looked intently at his phone screen. Across the table, Ron appeared equally nonplussed. She cringed inwardly. Once again she had botched her attempt to comfort him. “We’ll pay,” she assured Ron one last time</p><p>“Good. Apparently there was a confirmed sighting of the employee of a family friend, in the area that Stark’s daughter disappeared from, on the same day. This friend doesn’t live in King’s Landing and would have had no reason to be there at that time — no meetings, no vacation, nothing. My source thinks he was involved in her disappearance.”</p><p>Brienne sighed. “All friends of the Starks have been cleared at this point. They all have alibis, and none have a motive.” After a second, she remembered. “But thank you for the information. We will of course pay you for it.”</p><p>Ron shrugged. “That’s all I have.” His phone started ringing and he pulled it out. “Oh! Maybe they found something else.” He listened for several seconds, and his face hardened as he looked at them. “Thanks for the info. You’re right, they did lie about it.” He hung up, and folded his arms over his chest. “So, apparently my instincts were right about you two after all. I don’t know what your game is, but —”</p><p>“Who was that?” Jaime interrupted. “Did they say that Bri and I aren’t really dating? I would check your facts again, <em>Red. </em>Just because a relationship doesn’t fit some cookie-cutter stereotype doesn’t mean it’s not real.” She squeezed his leg without thinking and then blushed furiously, worried he would take it as her thinking he was sincere.</p><p>Ron wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Actually, no. They said you two got together about six months ago. Even if they hadn’t…” He shuddered. “I don’t fucking know <em>why — </em>I can only assume a traumatic brain injury — but any idiot who spends more than five minutes in your sickening presence knows that that part’s true. Nobody’s <em>that</em> good of an actor.”</p><p><em>Except Jaime,</em> Brienne thought with a kind of muted, bittersweet, triumph. She eyed her hand on his thigh. The gods knew she wouldn’t be able to touch him like this after this meeting, no matter what he claimed, but at least it had helped convince Ron to give them his information, and hadn’t that been the point? Wasn’t this a victory?</p><p>“Well, what, then?” Jaime demanded.</p><p>Ron turned to her. “Tarth.”</p><p>She snapped her focus to him. “Me?”</p><p>“Yeah, you. What are you doing here?” Brienne looked around the bar and then down at herself, unsure of what answer he was looking for. What were any of them doing, really? “No, not here in the bar. Here, at this hotel. Why are you staying here?”</p><p>“I… am on a special assignment for Senator Stark. I’m sorry, I can’t talk about it.”</p><p>“See, that's the thing. They said that you’re no longer on the payroll at all.” She felt the blood drain from her face, and he grinned. “See? And you thought all my info was crap.”</p><p>Jaime turned from one to the other in confusion. “What? What does he mean?”</p><p>Ron rolled his eyes. “Oh please, don’t play dumb. How can you not know your girlfriend lost her job?”</p><p>“She <em>hasn’t</em> lost her job, you fucking — Brienne, tell him. Your intel is wrong.” She slowly tried to withdraw her hand but he grabbed it and held it fast, lacing his fingers with hers. “Okay, this is ridiculous. Stark would never fire her. She does the work of five people. You can’t buy that kind of loyalty.”</p><p>“Well, the senator agrees with that last part, as of… what was it, three months ago?” Brienne watched Jaime out of the corner of her eye. He was frozen solid. “That was right around the time that <em><em>you</em></em> left, wasn’t it? I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t help your girlfriend get a job, especially since you were looking yourself. Unless, of course, she’s not quite as talented as you say she is.”</p><p>She chanced another peek at Jaime, who was looking at her like he’d never seen her before. “We…” her voice cracked. She cleared her throat and tried again. “We had a difference of opinion.” His eyes bored into her. “Ultimately, the senator decided to no longer retain my services, which is her right. That — that is all I have to say on the matter.”</p><p>“How diplomatic,” Ron sneered. She pulled her hand away again, and this time Jaime allowed it, letting his fall listlessly to his side. She tried not to mourn its absence.</p><p>“Jaime, I…” He didn’t give her any indication that he’d heard her, but she didn’t know what to say anyway. Where would she even begin?</p><p>“Trouble in paradise? Aww, how sad.” Ron sounded delighted.</p><p>Brienne shook the cobwebs from her thoughts. She could at least attend to this. “So to be clear, Red, <em>now</em> you’ve given me all you have? There’s no more information to tell us?”</p><p>“Yeah, that’s everything.” His eyes narrowed. “But you better not think you’ll get away with not paying me for that. A deal’s a deal. I kept my end of the bargain.”</p><p>“Yes, I know,” she said wearily.</p><p>“Good. I’ve worked too hard to get jerked around by some pitiful slag and her low-rent boytoy.”</p><p>Jaime roused at this. “Listen, you sack of shit —” He started to rise from his seat and she shoved him back down.</p><p>“Oh, like you’re one to talk, Lannister. Don’t sit there and pretend that a fucking murderous snake is better than me. How fitting that the world’s sorriest excuse for a woman would end up with one of its worst men.”</p><p>Before Brienne even knew what was happening she had stood up, pulled back, and socked Ron in the face.</p><p>She hadn’t had much chance to work out lately but apparently could still throw a punch, as Ron went down without the slightest resistance, landing flat on his back. He gingerly touched one hand to his nose, pulling away fingers coated in blood. When he looked up at her, more than anything else she saw… surprise. Well, that made two of them.</p><p>“I’m sorry, but… well, I <em>did</em> tell you not to do that.” She grabbed a wad of napkins from the table and folded them into his hand with shaking fingers. She started to walk away, stopped, and went back to carefully place her envelope of cash on a clean section of floor next to him. Nobody moved and nobody spoke, including Jaime, who she was too embarrassed to even look at. She fled.</p><hr/><p><em>Door slam still ringing in her ears, Brienne scrunched up her face and willed herself not to cry as she sifted through the things that had fallen from Jaime’s desk. </em>Not here, not at the office,<em> she thought desperately. At least let her wait until she got home. She stretched to reach another part of the pile, and her fingers brushed something hard. Dragging the box closer to her, she saw a note held to its face by a rubber band. ‘</em>For B.’,<em> she read, puzzled, and sat back on her heels. Could Jaime have been keeping a present for her right on his desk? She opened the box to see a red velvet lining, and a necklace.</em></p><hr/><p>
  <em>Brienne stood outside Catelyn's office, touching her trembling hand to her chest for strength. She took a deep breath and opened the door.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Senator Stark, may I speak with you?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I am extraordinarily busy, Brienne,” she warned, still scribbling notes.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s about Jaime.”</em>
</p><p><em>Catelyn blew her breath out slowly. </em>“Jaime.”</p><p>
  <em>“I mean, Mr. Lannister.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes? What about that man do you wish to discuss with me, Brienne?” Her voice was hard.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“He… he said you fired him.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I certainly did.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“But Catelyn, he didn’t do anything.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m sorry, but he did. I heard it from a trusted friend firsthand.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“He couldn’t have. He’s not the man you think he is, I swear.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Catelyn finally looked up, stone-faced, and her eyes fell on the gold-colored pendant hanging from Brienne’s neck: a lion’s head the size of an egg, with a shimmering blue crystal held between its teeth. Her lip curled. “I see. I must say, Brienne, I had expected better from you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t know what you mean, Senator, I —”</em>
</p><p><em>“You </em>fucked<em> him,” she spat.</em></p><p>
  <em>Brienne flinched. “No, this is only… you don’t understand…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Catelyn laughed incredulously. “Don’t I, though?”</em>
</p><p><em>“No! Catelyn, he would </em>never —<em> I mean </em>I <em>could never — ”</em></p><p><em>“Brienne, I don’t have time for this. In light of your past service, I’m willing to overlook this unfortunate lapse in judgment, </em>if <em>you promise to support me in taking him and his family down. That’s all I ask from you.”</em></p><p><em>Brienne touched her necklace again. </em>Jaime trusted me, and I betrayed him.<em> “No, I won’t do that.”</em></p><p>
  <em>There was a long silence. Finally Catelyn spoke. “You’re fired.”</em>
</p><hr/><p>When Brienne got to her floor, she walked back to the room as quickly as she could without drawing even more attention to herself. She unlocked the door, rushed in, and bolted it, but then had to lean her head back onto the wood to catch her breath, throwing open her coat to do so. She would have to be out of this hotel by the morning, she knew. <em>Another bridge burned.</em> Tears squeezed out of her eyes despite her best efforts to keep them in. She drew in one, two, three ragged breaths, and pushed herself upright to gather her things.</p><p>There was a loud bang on the door.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I KNOW, RIGHT?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>At long last.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi, friends! There's another rating change, so let's see what this fic can do on the open highway.</p><p>(ETA I added this chapter and chapter 4 at the same time, so if you've been following along in real time be sure not to miss it)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Brienne opened the door.</p><p>In burst Jaime with a face like thunder. She backed away from the door reflexively, but stopped as he took a moment to close it behind him. He turned to look at her and took her in, coat gaping open, chest heaving. She stared back, too surprised to be self-conscious. “What did you <em>do?”</em> he demanded. And then like water pouring forth from a dam he rushed toward her and pulled her head down into a blistering kiss.</p><p>Brienne kissed him back, as she’d been dying to do all night. For months, really. Maybe her whole life, before she even knew him. She had no earthly idea what she was doing but for all its intensity, there was something very simple about kissing Jaime. After so much time trying not to think about how much she wanted him, now she could just give in to the prospect completely. It was freeing in a way she would never have expected. Clearly none of this could actually be happening to her in the first place, so who was she to complain if it happened a little more?</p><p>Jaime kissed her again, and again, swallowing her gasps with his lips and with his tongue. He had let his hair and beard grow longer since she had last seen him, and she relished the rasp of it against his cheek. Somehow she had backed him into the door but he didn’t seem to mind, choosing instead to drag her up against him so closely that a piece of paper wouldn’t have fit between them. One of his hands was on the waistband of her jeans, holding her tightly by the belt loops, and the other cupped her face. He kissed her like a drowning man in search of oxygen.</p><p>One of Brienne’s hands braced herself against the door, and the other was pressed on his chest, hand fisted in the fabric of his shirt. When she touched his hardened nipple through the fabric he groaned and she was even more overcome, pushing him harder against the door and lifting her leg as if she could climb up him like a cat. He grabbed her thigh when she lifted it, easily supporting it and using it as extra leverage to pull her against him harder, and she came into contact with his erection, shamelessly rubbing against it to try to get some relief.</p><p>“Fuck,” Jaime gasped up into her mouth, grinding his hips into hers, and then with great effort pulled his head back, breaking the kiss. “So,” he said, breathless. “Have — have you finally decided what you want?”</p><p>Brienne looked at him. His pupils were huge and dark, he had spots of pink high on his cheekbones, his lips were swollen and kiss-stung, and she could feel the evidence of his arousal right up against hers. If ever there were a sincere offer that she was likely to see, this was it. She decided to believe.</p><p>“Yes,” she said, and dove back in for another kiss, splaying her hand on his chest and raking her nails down his shirt. Without breaking the kiss, Jaime forcefully tugged first one arm then the other out of his jacket, then threw it on the floor in a heap as if offended by its mere existence. His hands fumbled with his belt for a moment and then it joined the hapless jacket on the floor.</p><p>Jaime laid a trail of kisses from her lips to just below her ear. She shivered. Then he started to suck on her neck as he gently, oh so gently, started to peel her coat off of her. It was tantalizingly slow and careful, like unwrapping a very precious gift. With her arms bare, Brienne could feel the heat coming off of him like a furnace and wanted nothing more than to crawl inside his shirt and press up against him.</p><p>Brienne crept one hand under his hem and felt his muscles contract as he sucked in his breath. She ran her hand around to his back and started to slowly drag his shirt up, kissing him softly on the mouth as she did so. Jaime fidgeted and tried to help her but she stilled him, not allowing him to act as roughly as he had before, and softly pulled it over his head. He stared at her in awe, then at her chest, laid bare by her low-cut shirt. “Have you just been walking around with this underneath your clothes? For months?” His voice was gravelly.</p><p>Brienne colored. “I missed you.”</p><p>He swallowed. “Yeah, me too.” He pulled her into another kiss, running his hand up her spine to fiddle with her chain. “You should take it off for now, though.” She crossed to her nightstand and laid her necklace on its surface, then turned to find him crowding her onto the bed.</p><p>Brienne had never before been in a position of such simultaneous euphoria and precarity — this was undoubtedly the happiest she’d ever been in her entire life, but she had no idea what she’d done to deserve it, and the slightest misstep could send it flying away again. The closeness of him, the sharpness of his sweat and the heat of his skin, the pulse of his heart as she touched his chest, were all so achingly <em>real. </em>She couldn’t imagine ever wanting this to end. His hands, warm and strong, ran up and down her sides and held her close as he continued to kiss her. He brushed the backs of his hands over her nipples, and even though it was through two layers of fabric, she shivered.</p><p>Then Jaime was pulling her shirt over her head and she finally felt the heat of their two bodies touching. He pulled back to look at her more thoroughly, and smiled. “Freckles,” he said by way of explanation, and traced his finger all the way from her neck, down her sternum, to her navel. She trembled, feeling grateful for the presence of her push-up bra, but then it was gone in a whisper of Lycra. She didn’t have more than a moment to feel self-conscious about it before his lips closed over her nipple.</p><p>His mouth was a flame that licked up and down Brienne’s torso as she writhed. She opened her legs to pull him closer between them, and she felt him pressing against her crotch again. She cried out softly as he ground himself into her, tantalizingly slow. Then his hand was on her fly and he was yanking her jeans down past her knees, the cool air shocking on her bare legs.</p><p>Jaime worked… slowly. He still peppered her with kisses on her breasts, her neck, her mouth, her hairline, but his hands moved leisurely and feather-light as he snaked one down under the waistband of her panties to caress her hair. She knew even without checking that she must be very wet, but his slow smirk as he dipped his finger further down confirmed it. He peeled them off of her, taking the time to run his hand down the long length of each leg as he did so. She arched up against him, begging without words, but he still smiled and took his sweet time in dragging his finger along her thigh crease, closer and closer to… she moaned.</p><p>And then he was kissing her, but while stroking her between her legs, catching the embarrassing noises she was making in his mouth. He rubbed her until she was squirming up against him, panting, and slipped a finger inside. The feel of him was… indescribable. Jaime attacked her chest, her neck, her nipples again as he slowly pumped one and then two fingers in and out of her, grinding himself into her leg as he did so in time with his hand and the answering rolls of her hips. She thought she might die from how good it all was, and accepted it as a reasonable price to pay.</p><p>As the thrusts of his fingers and his thumb rubbing her sped up, Brienne had an increasingly difficult time staying quiet. She didn’t know what exactly she needed from him, but she needed… more. She reached down and pulled him against her leg firmly. Jaime looked at her with an almost angry look of pleading in his eyes.</p><p>“I — I want you,” she got out.</p><p>“You have me,” he growled.</p><p>“No, I want you inside of me.”</p><p>“You <em>have</em> me inside of you,” he insisted, twisting his fingers in a way that made her gasp.</p><p><em>“Please, </em>Jaime,” she begged, her dignity having gone out the door the second he had shown up there looking like some windswept hero from a fairytale.</p><p>He shuddered. “Fuck.” And then he was reaching down with his free hand and shoving his pants and underwear down just enough to free his hips and upper thighs, and crawling up her torso to seat himself between her legs. She could feel the scrape of fabric against her skin but didn’t mind it; just like the feel of his weight on top of her, it was both genuine and wholly unanticipated. It gave her a sliver of hope that this might, just might, be…</p><p>He pressed forward slowly, and although he had warmed her up beforehand, it still took him several tries to completely bury himself in her. When he finally slid home, he dropped his forehead onto her cheek. “Holy fucking shit, Brienne.” She nodded her head jerkily, not trusting herself to speak. He held still for a minute, letting her get used to the feel of it, before slowly withdrawing and pushing in again. She whimpered.</p><p>“Did I hurt you?” he rasped.</p><p>She shook her head frantically, and finally found her voice. “No! No, not at all. Please don't stop, Jaime.”</p><p>He scrutinized her face for a moment, then nodded. “All right.” And he started to carefully thrust in and out of her. Even his fingers, amazing though they had been, couldn't compare to the feeling of his thick length being dragged against her again and again. Every time he sank into her, an exquisite series of tingles ran down her thighs and up into her belly, tearing noises out of her that she really would have preferred to keep inside, where they belonged.</p><p>Jaime started to move a little faster and she lifted her legs up behind him, crossing them at the calves. When she started pulling him closer in time with his movement, he swore and warned her that this wasn’t going to last much longer if she kept that up. The raw need in his voice spurred her on to lift her hips up higher, allowing him to hit some new spot inside of her that made her cry out. He swore again and fumbled one hand between them, clumsily rubbing her while he drove into her faster and groaned like a man close to death. Suddenly Brienne was there, clenching around him and biting his shoulder to muffle her moans.</p><p>And Jaime followed her right after. <em>“Fuck,</em> oh, shit, you feel —” He shuddered and gasped as his hips pressed her into the bed. She held him tightly, every bit as close as she had dreamed she could. When he lifted his head from her shoulder and started to pull back, her legs refused to let him go, wanting him right where he was, at the very center of her. He came back to her gladly, kissed her, pressed his forehead against hers for a long moment. Still she was greedy and didn't want it to be over, didn't want him to leave, and she squeezed him against her body.</p><p>“All right, just gimme a sec,” he muttered, dropping his head back onto her again and letting his breath warm her, his golden curls a sharp contrast against her pale skin. After a few minutes, he withdrew from her — slowly, but still causing her to wince slightly. “Shit, sorry. Are you really sore?”</p><p>“I… don’t think so?” Sore wasn’t quite the word. Tender, certainly, but no pain.</p><p>“Do you still want more?” Brienne didn’t know what he meant but never considered saying anything but yes. Tonight, she would take all he was willing to give. Jaime kicked off his pants and slid down her torso, kissing her softly as he went, and settled his shoulders between her legs. “Oh, look,” he murmured, running the pad of his finger along her skin. “You blush here, too.” Even though he had just been inside her, they had been so preoccupied with kissing that he hadn't really <em>looked</em> at her before. She had the sudden urge to slam her legs shut.</p><p>“So tense.” Jaime kissed her leg from the inside of her knee up her thigh, holding the other open with his hand. “Just relax.” She felt his hot breath and then he was nuzzling her hair, her skin, lapping up residual moisture from her thighs and leaving delicious scratch marks from his facial hair. One hand was still on her leg, but with his other he groped blindly around her torso, eventually finding hers and dragging it to his head. She tentatively sunk her fingers into his curls and felt his shoulders quake, then clutched his head harder once he ran his tongue up her seam.</p><p>Soon enough, Brienne was scrunching her eyes shut and starting to let out soft cries and sighs, squirming under his mouth. His arm came up again to grasp her free hand, but instead of placing it on his head too he laced their fingers together tightly, giving her an anchoring point as she floated above her body. Even though he already had his face in between her legs, the clasp of their hands felt almost unbearably intimate.</p><p>Jaime did something else with his tongue and she yelped, and became self-conscious of the noises she was making. But when she tried to pull her hand away to cover her mouth, he refused to let it go, leaving her no choice but to let them come spilling out of her like so many sinful secrets. He closed her lips around her and started to suck, causing her to keen and try to move her hips away because the pleasure was too much for her to bear. So he took his hand that was wrapped around her thigh and shoved it underneath her, holding her up against his mouth as he feasted on her. She was immobilized, helpless to do anything except moan with increasing fervor until she couldn't fight it anymore and wailed as stars burst behind her eyes.</p><p>Brienne fell back on the bed, panting. Jaime gently peeled her stiff fingers from his, swiping the back of his hand over his mouth. She felt the heat and sweat of his forehead as he rested it on her thigh, breathing just as hard as she was. She looked down to see him grinning wickedly. “Still miss me?”</p><p>She was already overwhelmed, but the relief of seeing him smiling at her again, after so much time apart, brought all the weight of her recent loneliness down on her at once and caused her eyes to burn with stupid tears. “Only a little,” she answered faintly.</p><p>Jaime’s eyes softened, and he climbed up the bed to pull her into a lingering kiss, then flopped back onto a pillow and pulled her in beside him, where she fell into a deep sleep.</p><hr/><p>When Brienne woke, it took her a moment to remember where she was. The bed was familiar, but the warmth was not. Nor was the cacophony of aromas that wafted up into her nostrils.</p><p>Also, someone was in the shower singing "The Dornishman's Wife."</p><p>She sat up to see that someone had delivered what was, conservatively, the entire room service menu. Suddenly she was more ravenous than she could ever remember. In the time it took Jaime to get through that song, “Six Maids In A Pool”, and a rousing rendition of “The Bear and the Maiden Fair”, she had polished off the scrambled eggs, sausages, and sticky buns, and was making significant inroads into the toast.</p><p>When Jaime emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, naked as his name day and looking like a god, she realized again what a sharp contrast there was between him and her. She waited for him to make some snide remark about her awkwardly-wrapped bedsheet or the coating of crumbs on her chest, but he only came over and grabbed a fork.</p><p>“Oh good, you found the food.”</p><p><em>Found</em> the food? She could have seen the food from space. “Yes, thank you. You really didn’t have to get so much, though.”</p><p>Jaime scoffed. “Look at you, you’re wasting away.” She regarded herself dubiously. “Trust me. If you don't fatten up you'll look like one of those plants that somebody moved to a closet and left in the dark.”</p><p>“I… don’t know what you’re talking about.”</p><p>“Gods, Tarth, crack a book sometime.” He snickered when she shot him a glare. “Can you pass me my computer bag? I want to check my work e-mails.”</p><p>“Oh.” On the floor at the end of the bed sat several bags. “When did those get here?”</p><p>“This morning. I paid the bellhop to bring them over from my room.”</p><p>“You were already checked in?”</p><p>“Yeah, I got here yesterday. I just didn’t want to travel back to King’s Landing without knowing where work would send me next week, so decided to hunker down here for a couple days.”</p><p>“I’m sorry… your room was probably a lot nicer.” She had barely been able to scrape together the funds for this one and it had felt cramped with only her, let alone Jaime’s ebullient presence.</p><p>He leaned over and stole one of her strips of bacon, then tucked her hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead. “This one has better amenities.” She knew she was glowing pink again and tried to busy herself with her food. “Besides, this may have been cheap to start with, but given all the services you charged to the room last night, I'm not exactly in a financial position to be shacking up in the penthouse suite.” He grinned at her.<em> “Bar</em> brawling, Tarth? I really can't take you anywhere. Not when the Just Maid comes out to play.” He chewed a moment. “Oh yeah, that's what I named your fist.”</p><p>“Oh — you — ” Brienne was torn between guilt and a kind of slow creeping delight. Guilt won out. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to cause such a fuss.”</p><p>“Shut up, it was awesome. Anyway it’s fine. When I said we were together, the bartender backed me up, and they said they’d let me pay damages in exchange for the hassle. I overheard them mention your room number, so I just left them my card and booked it up here.” She smiled to herself thinking of what had happened after that. The look he sent back was full of heat. “So, where are you going after this? What’s the next stop on your travels?”</p><p>“Oh, yes. I was trying not to think about that.”</p><p>“What? Why?”</p><p>“I think I’ve just hit a dead end. That was my last contact, and he didn’t give me much. I don’t know where to go from here.”</p><p>“Well, you need a job. Why don’t you come to my company? We go all over the country, you could maybe explore somewhere you hadn’t been before. At least, you could have some money while you’re figuring out your next steps.” Brienne knew that was a good idea — she couldn’t exist solely on Jaime’s largesse. She said as much to him, and he shrugged. “I mean <em>I</em> wouldn’t care, but you wouldn’t be happy, so.”</p><p>She wasn’t going to miss her chance a second time. “All right. I accept.”</p><p>“Really? I thought that was going to be much more difficult. I’m glad. For an exceptionally large person, you sure can disappear when you want to. I don’t want to spend another quarter of a year wondering where the fuck you are.” Jaime turned his attention back to his computer then, and she watched him while eating the rest of a stack of pancakes. <em>Yes,</em> she agreed silently. This was much better.</p><hr/><p>Brienne knew that Jaime had a lot of things to manage, with his job and who knew what else. So when she lay down after eating, sated and replete, his joining her on the bed was a pleasant surprise. If only the rest of the world didn't exist, she thought, while he stroked her hair, she could be blissfully content with very little else in her life. Possibly just this.</p><p>He touched her shoulder lightly. “What’s this?”</p><p>“What, is that my patch? I thought I had put it somewhere else.”</p><p>“No, that’s…” he rubbed the thumb of his other hand from her thigh crease to her lower belly, “right here.”</p><p>“Mmm.” Brienne made an effort to concentrate. “My shoulder? I, um, had a run-in a few weeks ago. It’s fine now.”</p><p>“I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me any more about that, are you?”</p><p>“I… could.”</p><p>“You don’t have to, right now.” She exhaled a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. He was quiet for a minute, then: “Do you have nightmares about it?”</p><p>She cringed. “How did you know?”</p><p>Jaime let out a sigh of his own. “You talk in your sleep.”</p><p>“I think,” she started.</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>“I think last night the nightmares weren’t as bad.”</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>She lay there for a while longer, happily floating, but now that her more immediate needs of food and sleep had been met the feeling of grime was becoming intolerable. “I need to go take a shower and clean up.”</p><p>Evidently having a lie-down made Jaime feisty. “If you must… but would you like some help?”</p><p>She reddened and stammered but eventually managed to impress upon him the importance of privacy, and the meaning of a closed door.</p><p>“Understood. Take all the privacy you need, my dear. I would never want to intrude on your… private time.” There was something in his voice that made her look back at him suspiciously as she crawled out of bed, still wrapped in a sheet, but his eyes were wide and innocent. “What? I’m not getting up. I’ll stay right here. <em>If</em> that’s really what you want.”</p><p>She was nearly to the bathroom door when he called out to her. “Hey, Brienne.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>He had turned onto his side in the bed, reclined like some horny artist’s oil painting of the Warrior. “Did you think about me when I was gone?”</p><p>“You know I did! I —”</p><p>“Did you think about me… privately?”</p><p>She blushed from head to toe. His smile widened. “I'll take that as a yes.”</p><p>“That’s not —”</p><p>“There’s no need to feel embarrassed about it, who could blame you?” He tucked his chin in to look down and peruse himself, all lean muscle and golden limbs. “What woman could resist?”</p><p>Brienne wondered if Jaime had already paid for the room in full, so she could murder him without being stuck with the bill. “You — you probably did too!”</p><p>“Oh, I <em>definitely </em>did. Wanna hear about it?”</p><p><em>Gods, yes. </em>“No. I… I need to go clean up.”</p><p>“Suit yourself. I think I’m going to go over some of the highlights just for myself, though. Nostalgia and all that.” He lay flat on his back again and started to recite. “There was this one time in Pennytree…”</p><p>She dropped the sheet on the rug and slammed the door shut.</p><p>Brienne took several minutes to use the toilet, make sure she had her shampoo and soap ready, brush her teeth, but — was he <em>still</em> talking? She listened through the wall.</p><p>“ … it was unusual because we’d never even <em>been</em> to Pyke together, but something about that sea air —”</p><p>She couldn’t take it anymore. She opened the door to poke her head and shoulders out. “Do you ever shut up?”</p><p>He did stop, then, and craned his neck to give her a once-over that somehow felt as though he had removed another layer of clothes she wasn’t wearing in the first place. “I might. Why don’t you come have a seat and we can talk about it?” He licked his lips, his meaning clear.</p><p>“I — I haven’t even taken a shower yet!”</p><p>“I forgive you. Come over here.”</p><p><em>“Gods,</em> Jaime.”</p><p>“Exactly.”</p><p>Sputtering, she ran back into the bathroom… but she left the door ajar.</p><p>They ended up having what Brienne would characterize as a very productive conversation, although she did most of the talking.</p><hr/><p>Some time later, Brienne was happily ensconced in her softest pair of pajama pants and a tank top, dozing yet again. She wondered idly if this was something she was becoming — a Lady Who Lounged. It seemed very unlikely, but she’d recently experienced things even less likely than that. Very recently.</p><p>After considering for a moment, she had put her necklace back on too — her neck just didn’t feel right without it. If it had been constricting she wouldn’t have worn it when lying down, but the chain had enough play that it didn’t pull at her. Jaime hadn’t said anything when he saw what she was wearing, but now he didn’t seem able to stop touching it. He played with the chain lazily, running the links through his fingers and dropping it onto her skin repeatedly, drawing up the slack and then letting it puddle down into her breasts. It was warm against her skin.</p><p>“This really is absurdly long. On anyone else it would hang between their knees.”</p><p>“Why did you get such a long chain?”</p><p>“I didn’t. It just came that way.” She snorted, and his brow furrowed. “Didn’t you read the card?”</p><p>“What card? There was just a note stuck on the front. I didn’t even know for sure that it was for me, but… I took it anyway.” She almost whispered the last, remembering how afraid she had been of overstepping.</p><p>Jaime sat up and looked at her incredulously, then walked over to her suitcase. He started poking through her things, and pulled the velvet box from where she had placed it, wrapped in her softest shirts for safekeeping. He opened it as she had so many times before, but then lifted out the tray in which the necklace had been placed, removing a card from underneath that he tossed on the sheets.</p><p>
  <em>Gold and Sapphire Pendant-Necklace. 14k gold cable chain supporting a 14k gold pendant in the form of a lion’s head, measuring 2½ inches in length, holding a 35 ct cabochon sapphire, gross weight approximately 205 dwts. Unknown maker, estimated 4th century AC.</em>
</p><p>Brienne’s jaw dropped, and he shrugged. “I thought you knew.” When she continued to stare, he went on. “My mother was a Lannister before she even got married, so she had piles of family things inherited not only from her own parents, but my father’s too. When I was little, she would let us go through her jewelry box and tell us stories about what was in it.” He smiled wistfully. “I'm sure she made the stories up, but I always liked the one that went with this. When we went back to deal with the estate and stopped Cersei’s auction, I saw it and thought of you.”</p><p>She clutched the chain with trembling fingers. “Jaime — you can’t — <em>I</em> can’t —”</p><p>“You can if I say you can. I was already going to give it to you, I had a whole thing planned out, and… well. You have it now.” He lifted his shoulder again and got back into bed.</p><p>Brienne couldn’t think of anything to say that would encompass the depth of her feeling. “Jaime… why?”</p><p>“Isn’t it obvious?” <em>Not obvious enough. </em></p><p>“Well, I wouldn't want to assume…”</p><p>“Gods, I wish you would.”</p><p>She chose to ignore that. “I really can't believe I didn't know what this was. Why didn't you tell me?”</p><p>Jaime chuckled. “Well, at the time I kept looking through different cards that said ‘my esteemed colleague’ and wondered why none of them felt right… Wait, so, what did <em>you</em> think it was?”</p><p>She bit her lip to keep from giggling. “Um, I guess… costume jewelry?”</p><p><em>“Costume</em> jewelry? A scion of House Lannister would never give his wife costume jewelry. How gauche.”</p><p>“… Wife?”</p><p>“What? Oh, no, I just… I don’t know, that must be what it was for originally, don’t you think? At least, that’s what it always seemed to me.”</p><p>“A strange gift for a colleague, then,” she ventured after a pregnant silence.</p><p>“Hence my dilemma.”</p><p>Brienne sensed she was on the conversational verge of something huge and wonderful and terrifying, and shied away from it. “Jaime, I wore this necklace to the <em>laundromat.”</em></p><p>He laughed easily. “I guess I'm lucky you didn't drop it in the bleach bottle by mistake.”</p><p>“I would never! I just — I took care of it because of who gave it to me, not because I thought it was…”</p><p>“A priceless historical artifact that should really be in a museum?”</p><p>She touched it hesitantly. “Oh no, do you think I should…”</p><p>“Don't be ridiculous. Bequeath it to one in your will if you care that much, or better yet, leave it to your favorite child and sow decades of discord.”</p><p>She chuckled, but still eyed the necklace skeptically.</p><p>“Seriously, Brienne. Tyrion used it to play cops and robbers.”</p><p>“Ingrate,” she muttered, trying not to smile at the thought.</p><p>“A rake, from the very beginning,” he agreed.</p><p>“Much like his brother, I think,” she said without thinking, then held her breath, hoping that he wouldn’t be reminded of their past fighting.</p><p>But Jaime only grinned at her. “Hard to argue with that.” He slid his hand down from her chest to her belly, drawing slow circles. Her eyes were about to flutter closed, when the tone of his voice changed.</p><p>“Please, Brienne — you must know. You have to.”</p><p>She thought she might. But… was she just convincing herself of something she so desperately wanted? She opened her mouth, but closed it again, afraid of finally breaking whatever spell seemed to have bound him to her.</p><p>“I told you last night,” Jaime said quietly. “Nothing's the same when you're gone. I nearly drove myself crazy trying to stop thinking about you. I couldn't do it, I just — Okay, listen. I’m not gonna say some bullshit about not being able to live without you. I can get my work done, I can be useful, I can <em>survive</em> without you just fine, but … the last three months have been like living in some black and white movie. And as soon as I saw you, all the color came rushing back.” She blinked hard several times. “You just… make everything better. You filled in things I didn’t know were missing. You're like some… I can't believe you're real. Where did you even come from? I don't understand how I was lucky enough to find you.”</p><p>He was staring at her then, pink-eared and with eyes that… Brienne leaned forward and he came to meet her in the middle, so soft and sweet that it made her heart ache. Even after the night before, it felt like her first kiss.</p><p>She cleared her throat. “I… Um. I think that you're… Jaime, I — Oh! I forgot to tell you.” She got up to pull a slim blue folder out of her suitcase and brought it over to the bed. “I sort of… got you a present, too.”</p><p>Jaime smiled gamely. “You did? What is it? If it’s another antique, you're such a copycat.” She made to swat him with the folder but he grabbed it from her. “I’ll be taking that, thank you.” He looked through what she had collected: phone records, browser histories, and interview transcripts, all implicating Cersei Lannister and Sybell Spicer in the political scandal that had come to be known as ‘The Red Bedding’ (a triple entendre referencing not only the historical event and antiquated term for sex, but the crimson sheets that featured prominently in the film).</p><p>“I just… you were right. I should have known you didn’t do it. I <em>did</em> know that, actually — I just didn’t want to believe that someone I trusted could have done something so rash for no good reason.” She sighed. “The senator, I mean.”</p><p>“You — I…” Jaime appeared to be at a loss for words, something Brienne hadn’t known was medically possible. She started to feel faintly uneasy.</p><p>“You don’t have to do anything with it, if you don’t want to! I just had to go to Lannisport anyway for something else, so thought I’d take a couple extra days.” Still he said nothing, staring at the folder. “I thought they might be able to prosecute, actually, with the new revenge porn legislation. It would turn public opinion back in Robb’s favor — maybe he could get his job back. Although I suppose you would have to be okay with turning in your sister for that, so maybe not.” She was babbling now. Why wouldn’t he speak?</p><p>“I don't want you to think that I did this because I lo…” The word stuck in her throat and Jaime finally looked up at her, solemn and quiet. “Oh — <em>no,</em> I mean I do, but —” A ghost of a smile appeared on his face. “I just don't want you to think that these conclusions were reached due to my, um, affections. It's factual and objective. You are innocent of the accusations, by any metric. That is, I just wanted to be very clear. I don't think you're a good man because I… It’s the opposite, that's one of the reasons <em>why</em> I do. But, I mean. I already did. The folder didn't do that.”</p><p>It was by far the most brazen thing Brienne had ever said about her feelings, nigh-incomprehensible though it was. Buoyed by her fearlessness, she leaned forward impulsively and kissed him. Jaime’s lips were still against hers for a moment, but just as she started to worry that she had somehow misinterpreted everything, his fingers speared into her hair and he kissed her back with surprising ferocity. Soon enough, she felt him hardening against her thigh again, and she remembered sitting next to him the night before. How much she had wanted him, while never truly thinking she could have him. But now he was here, and so was she.</p><p>She kissed his neck, enjoying his shivers, and moved down to his collarbone, his nipples. He sucked in his breath when her lips ghosted over the hairs on his lower abdomen.</p><p>Then she leaned forward and gave him a long, experimental lick. He exhaled sharply. She felt the back of his hand on her cheek, his fingers shaking slightly, and she smiled to herself. When she leaned in and licked him again, he swore and his palm swept up to the top of her head to stroke her hair. Emboldened by his response, she took him in her mouth.</p><p>As she sucked him, Jaime traced his fingernail along her hairline, leaving tingles in his wake. He dragged his fingers through her hair, gathering it up, then letting it fall to brush her neck. She shivered.</p><p>Brienne had a sudden flashback to her college days, when she would sit at her desk pretending not to listen to her roommate and the group of girls that would talk about their most recent hookups.</p><p><em>“If I feel his hand anywhere near my head, I pull back and refuse to start again until he moves it,”</em> she remembered hearing, and there was a chorus of agreement.</p><p><em>“Oh gods, I know,”</em> another had chimed in. <em>“Like, I’ll </em>do<em> it, that’s only fair, but I did </em>not<em> sign up to choke on your dick, know what I mean? He got cranky with me but like dude, it’s only one rule, it’s not that hard to follow. If you don’t like it, feel free to do it yourself.” </em>Everyone laughed, and Brienne resolved to adopt a similar policy herself, in the unlikely event that she ever needed a sex stance. But now…</p><p>She took him in deeper and Jaime placed his thumb on the back of her neck to caress her in small circles, then expanded his radius to include her scalp, sending tingles down her spine. She forgot herself and whimpered, jaw slackening, then glanced up guiltily. His searing gaze found hers and she felt an answering rush of heat between her legs.</p><p>Why had no one told her about <em>this?</em></p><p>She bobbed her head a few more times, holding eye contact with him. The throbbing between her legs intensified and she squeezed her thighs together to try and find some relief, eyes drifting closed for a moment when she finally succeeded. She heard a whispered, <em>“Fuck.”</em></p><p>When she looked back at him, Jaime swallowed, hard, and pushed himself up on the bed, backing away from her. “All right, you’ve had your fun,” he said breathlessly. “No more right now, or I won’t be able to fuck you.”</p><p>“Well, if you’d rather…”</p><p>“Absolutely fucking not.” He pulled her into a deep kiss, stuck an arm under her thigh, and dragged her over his lap so she was straddling him. “Much better.”</p><p>Given that Brienne was already taller, she wasn’t surprised to be looking down at him now, but the difference wasn’t as stark as she might have imagined. Apparently, Jaime had a proportionally longer torso than she did. He noticed the same thing, running his hands over her folded limbs. “I’ve discovered your secret, Tarth. You’re all legs, like a spider.”</p><p>She straightened up to test it, putting her weight on her knees, and ended up with her torso pressed right against Jaime’s head. So, that was too far. Before she had a chance to bend her legs again, he had lifted her shirt and burrowed underneath it, licking up from her navel to her ribcage.</p><p>“Jaime!”</p><p>“You always wear too many fucking clothes, Tarth. Just layers upon layers of fabric, none of which is the layer I <em>want </em>to see, the first one, right here…” He mouthed her nipple. “And so ugly!” She scowled. Pulling his head free, he sighed and amended his earlier statement, running his hands over her soft pants. “Okay, no, these seem fine. But some of your office clothing! I refuse to believe you weren't playing the long con. <em>‘Oh, how can I seduce him? Better make it so he can't stop thinking about how badly he wants to rip off my shirt.’ </em>Yeah, I’m wise to your game now.”</p><p>Brienne wanted to maintain her feeling of outrage, yet ultimately couldn't stop herself from giggling. Jaime glared up at her, muttering something about how she didn't need to keep trying, he was already a sure thing, but obligingly held out a hand so she could balance as she pulled her pants legs off one at a time, and climbed back over him to hover. He yanked her shirt up and threw it behind her, staring greedily at her breasts with her necklace dangling between them. Surely she should have reached a point free from self-consciousness by now, she thought futilely, as he carefully removed the jewelry as well and she felt a flush spread up from her neck.</p><p>“I can’t believe you’re still blushing,” Jaime murmured, touching her cheek.</p><p>“Well, I —”</p><p>“Oh no, I know <em>why.</em> It’s just…” He stroked her open with a finger. “How can you have any blood left, when you’re so pink and swollen and plump down here already?” A choked noise escaped her. “You’re wondering how I know that, aren’t you? When I can’t see you. But I can <em>feel</em> you.” He moved his finger up and started to rub. “You must be able to feel it too, how wet you are. How ripe and eager and wanting. I’ll never forget when I saw you last night, Brienne, when you finally let me look between your legs and peek at what you’d been hiding there.” He craned his neck to whisper in her ear, lips hovering just above but not touching her skin. “Why, I think you have the prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen.”</p><p><em>Fuck.</em> “Shut up, Jaime,” she said reflexively, her voice considerably more strangled than it usually was when she said it.</p><p>“Is that really what you want?” he murmured. Brienne turned her head further into his hair so she didn’t have to look him in the eye as she shook her head. No. It wasn’t what she wanted.</p><p>Jaime strummed his fingers along her skin, squeezing, petting, stroking her thighs and belly and butt, while his other hand continued to rub her and he hissed the filthiest things she had ever heard into her pathetically needy ears. Her legs shook with the strain of holding her up. Her knees wanted to buckle and tumble her right down into his lap, and a large part of the rest of her wanted that too, but how could she change what she was doing when this was already so perfect?</p><p>“Do you think you want to come just like this?” Jaime asked conversationally. “Just dripping down onto my cock from above like some obscene goddess, tantalizingly close and yet too far away? Gods, your thighs are strong. The first time I ever saw you all I could think was that your body was powerful enough to utterly ruin my life, if I let it. And after last night, when you pulled me into you with those legs? And held me up against you with those arms? <em>Fuck, </em>Brienne. I thought, ‘she might kill me, but I'd rather die like this than have her stop.’”</p><p>Suddenly she remembered just how sublime the feeling of him driving into her over and over had been, and she couldn't hold out any longer. She sank down onto him — cautiously, in case she was sore, but Jaime hadn't lied, she really was shockingly wet, and as she felt herself opening around him the slow stretch made her want to throw her head back and moan, more than anything else.</p><p>Once he was fully seated within her, Brienne let herself collapse and curl forward onto his body, panting from the effort it had taken her to remain upright, while he walked his fingers up and down her spine. She wanted — no, <em>needed —</em> to feel his thick length gliding in and out of her again. But her legs were jelly.</p><p>Jaime slid both hands underneath her. “I wonder if I can —” he muttered, then pulled up to lift her off his legs, and set her back down. <em>“Fuck. </em>Okay, yes, that works.” He did it again and she shuddered.</p><p>“Jaime, you can’t just hold me up like that,” she gasped.</p><p>“Mm, I like my chances.” He did it two more times, with a grin so smug she could have smacked him.</p><p>“You — you might hurt yourself.” The last word of her sentence was punctuated with a loud moan, which she felt did nothing to increase the legitimacy of her position.</p><p>“I doubt it, but really, what a way to go.”</p><p>Summoning all her strength, Brienne rose up on her legs and sank back down onto him so slowly that she felt his hand on her clench into a fist and open again, shaking.</p><p>He looked up at her, pupils blown. “Touché, Tarth.” Then they were sparring again, but not in a battle — more like a dance, in which the only way to lose was to quit before your partner did. Sweat poured off of her and onto Jaime’s head, mussing his perfect hair even further than she already had by burying her nose in it to smell him. Whenever her chest was at the right height, he leaned forward and put his mouth on her, nipping and sucking, leaving her skin covered in love bites and beard burn.</p><p>Brienne slipped one of her hands down between them, searching for the right spot. Jaime looked confused for a second, until she found it and the eyes rolled back in her head. “Holy fuck, that’s hot. Don’t stop. Shit — are you gonna come on my cock again? You felt like a vise last time, draining the life out of me. You can take it, Brienne, take whatever you want. Leave just a pile of bones and dust behind, I don’t fucking care, just as long as you — ” The rest of his words were drowned out by the roaring in her ears as her whole body spasmed in his arms.</p><p>Brienne lay her head on him, panting, and felt his hands slowly caress her back. She also knew — she <em>knew — </em>that he was going to be absolutely insufferable once he felt he'd waited long enough to brag.</p><p>She took a deep breath, then bent her head down close to his ear. “You know, Jaime… I <em>did</em> think about you while you were gone.”</p><p>He looked up at that, eyes wild. “Yeah?”</p><p>“Mm-hmm.”</p><p>Jaime’s fingers tightened on her hips. “Tell me. Please.” So she did, haltingly and in whispers, as he cursed and stopped lifting her in favor of holding her still with both hands and thrusting up from below with increasing urgency. “Fuck — fuck — gods Brienne, please don’t stop — fuck —” He darted his head forward and sucked on her nipple hungrily as his hips pistoned in, in, in, and then he was swelling and groaning and she could feel him pulsing inside of her as he came. She knew she would have bruises later where his hands had gripped her, but for the first time, she started to believe she wouldn’t need them to convince herself it was real.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Photosynthetic plants left in the dark become tall, skinny, and pale; this is called 'etiolation'. Don't ask me how the fuck Jaime knows about it, though.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The morning after the morning after.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Could I have put this in the last chapter? Yes. Did I want to? No.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next morning, Brienne thought she would be responsible and pack well before their departure time, but her possessions were so meager that she was done after only four minutes. Jaime had made no such effort and lay lazily in the sheets, flipping through the channels on the TV.</p><p>He really was a <em>horrible </em>influence. She flopped down on the bed next to him. “I’m not picking up your things.”</p><p>“Good, don’t. I’ll do it later. Look, I found us a basketball game.” The TV blared.</p><p>
  <em>“Playing in the semifinals, we have the Coldwater Runes in their home of Eyrie Stadium, up against defending champions the Horn Hill Bulls.”</em>
</p><p>“Who are we rooting for?”</p><p>“The Runes,” Brienne answered firmly. Jaime reached over and patted her denim-clad leg, but seemed to get distracted, because his patting turned into squeezing that made her squirm.</p><p>“Did you ever play basketball, Brienne? Did you wear those skimpy little shorts?”</p><p>“Skimpy little shorts, for basketball?”</p><p>His eyes lapped their way up her legs. “When you want to wear shorts do you just put on someone else’s regular pants?”</p><p>“I don’t think basketball is skimpy shorts. Are you thinking maybe of beach volleyball?”</p><p>“Oh, I’m thinking of a lot of things, Brienne,” Jaime promised her absently, typing something into his phone. His eyebrows shot up. “Well, <em>now</em> I’m thinking of beach volleyball.”</p><p>She had to laugh. “I thought you might be.”</p><p>“Did you ever… play beach volleyball, Brienne?”</p><p>She smiled sweetly. “Well, Tarth <em>is</em> an island. We have a very high ratio of beaches to actual land area.”</p><p>“Fuck.” Jaime leaned in closer. “Do you think you might —”</p><p>“Wait, stop. Turn that up.” Brienne fumbled for the remote.</p><p>
  <em>“— for our Man On The Street segment, let’s try these ladies over here. What are your thoughts on the Runes making the semis?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A short girl with curly hair giggled on the screen. “I’m happy about anything that gets all these star athletes in town.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Reasonable, reasonable. And what about your friend?” Her companion, a tall girl with long dark hair braided back, tugged the first one aside. She gave a forced smile, then ducked away, pulling her friend down the road and into a waiting car.</em>
</p><p>“What? What is it?”</p><p>Brienne had only seen her for a second, but… She jumped out of bed to rifle through her files. “There! Look!” She held up a newspaper clipping about Senator Stark’s direwolf rescue efforts. It had a photograph of her daughters, one of whom she was almost positive she had just seen on the television.</p><p>“Wait — holy shit! What is she doing in the Vale?”</p><p>“I have absolutely no idea… wait. Isn’t the senator’s, like, high school sweetheart or something living in the Vale right now?”</p><p>“Who, Baelish? Try high school stalker, but yeah, I guess. I don’t know why the hells she keeps that guy around.”</p><p>“Ron did mention… oh, gods. Maybe I shouldn’t have punched him.”</p><p>“No, you <em>definitely</em> should have punched him. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. At least, it was at the time…” Jaime leered.</p><p>“You hush now with that. I have to call the senator.”</p><p>“Wait, hold on a sec.” Jaime’s hand stopped hers from reaching for the phone. “Something’s fishy.”</p><p>“Well, yes! Sansa’s been hiding out in the Vale for months!”</p><p>“No, but like — why hasn’t she told anyone where she is? You saw her, she’s not locked up somewhere, she’s gotta have access to a phone or computer. Why wouldn’t she have called her mother herself?”</p><p>“I… don’t know,” Brienne admitted.</p><p>“Cat will bring too much publicity if she goes there with her whole entourage. If Sansa slips away again, we might never find her. We should go there first to check it out.”</p><p>“Oh what, and just roll up in your Valyrian saying we work for the senator? We won’t even get past the Bloody Gate.”</p><p>Jaime furrowed his brow. “Hey! I was reading about this in the paper the other day. The sponsors for the Runes are paying for this like, basketball training camp for underprivileged youth or something. Seemed kind of hokey at the time, but…” She didn’t see where he was going with this. “Brienne, we could go undercover. As basketball people! Instructors. Or, I don’t fucking know. Something. You’re tall enough, at least, can probably just walk up and place the ball in the net like getting a book off a high shelf.”</p><p>“Yes, you’re right. Not about the shelf thing, but — ” Brienne sank down onto the bed. “I can’t believe we actually found her. I didn’t think we would, after all this time.”</p><p>“I can believe it. And <em>you</em> found her, not me. I always knew you would.” Jaime leaned down to kiss her, then popped back up. “Come on, there’s no time to lose! No more of that classic Tarth sloth.”</p><p>Brienne knew he was right — not about the sloth (probably), but about needing to hurry — and yet couldn’t resist sitting for another moment to watch him bustling around and packing up. She thought of all the other people in the world who were living sedate, controlled, lives, where they didn’t need to rush off into danger armed only with a cockeyed plan and one <em>very</em> smooth talker. She thought of herself, even; of her months — no, <em>years —</em> of living in the cold and dark and starving for the barest hint of warmth or affection, only to have Jaime barge in and set her whole life ablaze.</p><p>She would choose the fire, every time.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Immediately after the ending point of this fic we can assume Jaime starts talking about how <em>funny</em> it's going to be for him to surprise everyone and keep his promises, isn't it funny, Brienne? Brienne? Bueller?</p><p>ETA: I can be found at @sapphiresandsunlight on tumblr and would be happy to answer any questions about this fic (or anything else) either there or in the comments section. </p><p>In addition to my previously-stated gratitude for my fic recipient SigilBroken, I am grateful to everyone in my life who endured my incessant rambling about this fic since the beginning of June, especially H, an editor who both unflaggingly answered questions such as "what is the proper way to spell 'epi-pen'" and agreed with me that the legally mandated way [EpiPen (R)] was unconscionable, L and R who along with H provided my teetotaling ass with information about hotel bars and the food that would commonly be available for free there (answer: none, because they want you to buy it from the restaurant) and myriad other topics, and V, who helped fill plot holes like "why the hell would Red stay at a bar with Brienne there when he hates her guts" and came up with a *chef's kiss* inspired take on the Red Wedding for this universe. And most of all my boyfriend C, who without hesitation spent countless hours reading every draft I wrote and laughing at all my jokes to help me remember why I liked what I had written in the first place. </p><p>Finally, and idk why I didn't say this before because it's probably both obvious and anticlimactic, but the fic title comes from Peggy Lee's "Fever".</p>
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